A Story Only the Sky Remembers

 To the Sky and the Stars,

You’ve been my witness, haven’t you?. Every night, as I lay beneath your vast, aching silence, I whispered her name into your arms. I told you everything.

How her eyes hold galaxies deeper than your own constellations.

How her laughter softens the cruelest parts of this world.

You know her better than anyone, because I described her like poetry to you. I painted every detail with the brushstrokes of longing: The kindness she gives without expecting anything back. And that calm maturity, like an old soul in a young world.

You know how I see her, don’t you? Like a child witnessing magic for the first time— 

wide-eyed, heart still, lost in wonder.

But it never mattered, did it? She only saw a friend in me. Not the boy who loved her like the sun craves dawn. Not the soul who memorized the constellations of her smile. She never saw me—as I saw her.

So tell me, Sky. Tell me, Stars. Why? Why does love bloom in one heart and fall silent in another?

Why did I give everything I had, only for it to not be enough? You saw how I tried, How I yearned for her even in my dreams.

She’s gone now. Not lost in death or distance, But in that cruelest of ways: Gone from the version of reality where we could’ve been something more

And so I ask you, You who carry so many destinies on your backs, Why couldn’t you be the story-changer for us? Why couldn’t you rewrite our stars? Why couldn’t you be the character who rewrote my ending?

Even now, I’d take her hand if you brought her back to me, With all her love—not just friendship.
Because what I feel isn’t passing. It’s eternal. It’s every breath. Every heartbeat.

If there’s any magic left in you, Let it be the kind that brings hearts home. Bring her home to mine.

Always waiting,
Always yours,

The boy who still prays to the stars for her.