Let's trace the night.

Do you believe in forever?

I want to ask you if you believe in forever, because you're staring at it in the face right now, you know that? No horizons, no sunsets, no nothing. Just that vast, bruised sky above going on forever; far, far beyond that last digit after infinity.

 

And it makes me feel small. Lonely. Insignificant.

 

I need you to hold my hand. I need you to pull me close and keep me from flying or falling, whichever it is that I'm doing (because the Earth is hurtling through space at a million miles per hour and I just need to feel grounded). I need you to ask me to be your downfall, your source of solace, your anything. And I want to say, "Hey, we're just two kids in this big, crazy world, giddy for being alive, dancing with our eyes closed and our hearts open. Feeling thrilled, like we're the only two awake in the entire world, scribbling lyrics on pavements with broken chalk that washes away in rain even though our years can't and we're growing up too quickly and not crying or laughing or living or breathing enough-- but we're gonna make it through, right? Everything's gonna be okay…" (Tell me it will).

 

"Hey," I say instead. "Let's find our names in the constellations."

 

And we trace the night together.

Author's Note

Wrote this in about 10-15 minutes with a few prompts from the 100 Themes Challenge on DeviantArt. Enjoy. :)