The End Of Us Was The Beginning Of A Whole New Universe

When I look up at the stars, I’ll remember how you counted my freckles. You traced your cold finger down my legs, up my arms to my chest and then my face. I never knew I had little hairs on my chest until you electrified each one of them. You calculated meticulously every inch of my withering skin as if it was your own. But my freckles were secrets for just me to know.

That’s when I realized yours was the first soul who’d tried to crack the code. Because you told me my freckles were pretty, but you were wrong. My freckles didn’t make me pretty, they made me a galaxy. And when all the lights of the milky-way danced upon my earthly frame, they didn’t dance for you. They danced for me. 

That’s why the end of us felt like the beginning of a whole new universe. My whole new universe.

One where you didn’t have the map of my bones and my mouth had never known the taste of your lips. One where I had two choices, to tie the weight of the world around my ankles and sink to the bottom of the sea or to build a boat and reach shores I’d never even dreamt of. Shores far from the pain of all my yesterdays. When we ended, I gathered my tools and drew out my plan—my boat was going to be so beautiful, so grand.

But my eyes grew weary, so I laid down in my workshop and I drifted off to sleep. My mind played out scenes of who we used to be. Two souls intertwined, dancing through our darkest and sweetest days. Two hearts on fire, constantly searching for gasoline to fuel the flame. Loving and hating in a language that only we will ever know. 

I woke up and I felt the emptiness in my stomach and in my bed, and now it’s certain—I won’t close my eyes again until your memory is a distant whisper. Until my boat has taken me somewhere your eyes have never seen. Because that shore you’ll never see, and the stars are mine to keep.