I’ve always enjoyed the crisp silence of night. Time is frozen and endless, with a dark coolness settling like fog over the earth, like a shiver of dreams and wonders floating through the air.
Tonight, matching my steps to his, I could feel life’s answers in my skin. I could feel the earth spinning– spinning round and round, a million miles a second– and I could feel the blood pumping to my heart, and all the impossibilities of life became chaotic aspirations. The night was watching, holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
So I held his hand, not able to tell if the sky was on fire or if it was my heart, and not even caring. When I slipped my hand into his, I thought– thinking over and over about emotions and the universe and this strange idea of love– I thought the stars, burning bright against the contrast of the night, must be hand-crafted specifically for this moment.