No one ever talks about the beauty of falling out of love. one day your universe is this other person – you see galaxies in their eyes, you read your future from their palms, you fall asleep to their heartbeat – and yes, there is beauty in all of it. and then suddenly, they’re gone and it hurts in places you’ve never felt before. and the pain colors everything for a while – the way you can’t quite taste your food, and music reaches your ears and not your heart, and laughing doesn’t come from your belly, but from your mouth. it is ugly for a while, but then, one night, you look up at the sky as you walk home, and you see galaxies – millions of stars shining upon you and for you and you feel small, so small, but also important, grand, brilliant, because you are right here, right now and you have the privilege to watch them shine. they exist in thousands of years, some are long gone and others still burn bright – and yet you, just you, the ordinary broken-hearted you get to witness their light. and you begin to heal, slowly. and dreams fill your nights, and you can see a future again, and happiness for yourself and in yourself. you have dreams of your own, beautiful and bright and big, and a little bit frightening. you fall out of love slowly – out of love with this other person, this other universe, and you fall in love with yourself. and baby – it’s the most marvelous thing there is, watching you discover yourself in your depths, watching you reach towards yourself for strength. it’s the most beautiful thing watching you grow from a star and into a galaxy…