What the Stars Don’t Tell Us
I have spent enough nights looking up, trying to find an answer in something too far away to hear me ask.
Maybe that's what we do when life stops making sense. We look for signs.
A star that burns brighter. A door that opens. A coincidence that feels too perfect to be coincidence.
We call it fate because sometimes chance feels too small for what happens to us.
But I don't know anymore.
I don't know if the road was waiting for me or if I simply kept walking until it became a road.
I don't know if some people were meant to find me or if we just happened to cross paths at the exact moment we both needed someone.
Maybe that's the part the stars don't tell us.
Maybe they don't write our endings.
Maybe they just watch.
Watching us lose things we thought we'd keep.
Watching us hold on long after holding on started to hurt.
Watching us stand in the middle of a life we never planned and somehow keep going.
I've blamed fate for things I couldn't change.
I've thanked it for things I couldn't explain.
But tonight I think I'll leave the stars alone.
Let them be stars.
Let them burn without needing to mean something.
And let me be here, still choosing, still becoming, still walking into whatever comes next without needing the sky to tell me where I'm going.
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