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No Matter The Distance Between Us, We Still Share The Same Sky

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You are miles apart from me in a little town, resting your head on a worn pillow, pushing you through your days as if you aren’t exhausted by the sheer weight of this world.

You are miles apart from me, drinking coffee and watching airplanes take off, listening to Joshua Radin radio and humming along, filling your mind with anything that doesn’t hurt.

You are miles away from me, laughing at silly jokes, getting on your bike and riding until your legs ache, taking photos at sunset, trying to pretend like you’re perfectly fine, reaching for your phone to send me a message that you know I won’t answer until morning because I’m already asleep.

You are miles apart from me in a soft bed, watching the stars twinkle outside your window, missing me the same way I miss you. You do all this in the same way I watch that dark sky, wishing on airplanes and pretending they are shooting stars, longing for your arms around me, your kiss on my forehead.

You are miles apart from me, and sometimes it hurts.

Sometimes I want nothing else than to erase the distance, to pretend it doesn’t exist, to rewrite our stories into one another’s so it’s not as complicated, so it’s not as painful. Sometimes I want to close my eyes and calm my heart, tell myself that we will be okay, and believe it, even when the days drag on.

You are miles apart from me, and I hate it. You are miles apart from me, and I wish you weren’t. You are miles apart from me, but we are still so deeply connected. You are miles apart from me, and yet, we still share the same sky.

There is so much physical distance between us—trains and planes and automobiles, tickets and reservations and plans that haven’t yet been made, excuses and fears and reasons why we can’t. And yet, every night when my head hits the pillow and I toy with the blinds on my window to see those stars just once more, I’m reminded that no matter what separates us, we still see that same black, that same white moon, those same promises, written in the constellations.

And then, suddenly, it doesn’t hurt as much.

Because how far apart can we be if we’re still looking into the same air above us? If we can still dance under the same crescent moon? If we can laugh into our phone receivers at the sound of one another’s voice, watching the Big Dipper glow miles and miles over both of our heads?

You may be far from me, but we still share the same sky, the same dreams, the same wishes, the same love. You may be far from me, but we still look up and are grounded in who we are and who we’re meant to be—one day, together.

And so I hope on those nights when you’re feeling doubtful, when you wrap yourself in blankets and let the light of a TV show illuminate your silent bedroom, when you roll over and feel emptiness beside you, when the other half of the pillow’s grown cold, you remember that we are never too far apart that we cannot be connected under the stars above us.

And that when you feel the most alone, all you need to do is look up. And know I’m looking too, believing in us and how we will grow and shine

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