The winter months are coming. It’ll bring cold and gray and silence. I could do without these things.
But winter also brings my greatest love – in the form of a glittering night sky, the likes of which can’t be seen in any other season. Winter skies are clearer, sharper and more pristine than any other time of the year. Part of the reason is because Earth is facing the outer edge of the galaxy, where there’s less light pollution than at its center – the starts shine against a dark backdrop of what, for all practical human purposes, is emptiness.
He’ll come and lay over me each night, whether I can see him or not. But he also lays over everyone else in the universe. He is always laying over someone, somewhere. I am not special. I like to think that the relationship I have with him is special, but I know it is not. It can’t be. He loves me, but no more or less than anyone else. Maybe this is why everyone in my life has always found it so easy to be without me. I’m not much.