What are you looking for?
I want to know you
1 week ago · · Unexpected Love,
To the guy I met at the coffee shop and all of the galaxies he brought with him
I have always loved the stars. Always wished to travel among them, to speak to them and learn their stories, because if there's one thing I love more than stars, it's stories. Impossibly, you carry both like spare change, rummaging through your pocket to drop some into my outstretched palm, jingling keys in the shape of rockets passing through your fingers.
You speak like an immortal. Young and restless and old and tired all at once. Perhaps the sun found his way down to earth, or maybe the North Star finally found his way home. You are made of stardust and stories and I cannot resist.
I want to know you. All of you, in every single gory detail, and maybe that's odd. Maybe it's strange to be so fascinated by someone so quickly, but I have always loved old books and new stars. I have met a meteor in the most unlikely of places. He is old and interesting and close enough to hear, yet just out of my reach.
I surround myself with stories. My mind refuses to stop producing them, consuming them, telling them to an audience of one. You speak like my favorite book, familiar words spread across worn pages, easy and endlessly captivating, and I am comfortable in a way I never am. Hands that constantly quiver and voices that always tremble find rare peace and confidence in a constellation I barely know.
Perhaps, I wonder, if I can love the stars, in all of their ancient, brilliant glory, perhaps I can love you too.
But the stars are light years away and they cannot hurt me.
I do not know what to do. I cannot get lost in space.