My love for you was as vast as the galaxy that we’re just miniscules of. It was a galaxy where like the sun, I brought a glow into your dark world, with my light so strong, that I sucked all the darkness out of you. I didn’t care that like the moon, you didn’t have a light of your own, and you’d be the best version of yourself when you shined with the help of someone else’s light. I was happy to be that light for you, that would bring nothing but enthralling joy to you. I accepted your flaws and admired you as my moon, as my symbol of unity and perfection. Like the radiant Sun, I never left your side, even as you continued to exhaust me day after day with your own lack of completeness.
After all that I did, all the times that I stood by you, all I got from you just like the distant and ungrateful moon, was an icy cold end. The universe works in mysterious ways, they say. Maybe that’s why you chose to leave and become someone’s darkest star, when to me, even with all that darkness, you were the brightest moon.
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