The feeling of falling out of love is watching a star die, a million miles away, knowing there’s nothing you can do aside from watch and know that everything related to it has ran it’s course. An easy contender for one of the most miserable feelings ever felt, because every night you would go out and make a wish on it, and the star would wish for your return every night. You went through the trouble of finding the star, searching a pitch black sea for forever, to only one night watch what took forever, disappear forever, without so much as an explanation. As an adult, you’re expected to get over these occurrences and deny ever believing in fairy tales of stars having any kind of relevance or meaningfulness to your existence, so as that star expired, a piece of you dies along with it, and you drag it along daily, weighing you down, hoping no one notices or sees, but they do. Nothing tastes the same, feels the same, and at the thought your eyes begin to glitter and glisten like your love in the sky once was. And everytime you tell yourself to not look for love in the sky, because it is something beautiful yet unattainable, you never listen, becuase a million miles away doesn’t look so far at night. Closer to the stars, closer to your dreams.