Hi I wrote a thing this morning. Not sure if this is what you were going for, but this is the first thing I’ve written in a really, really long time, so thank you for the inspiration!!
When she left, he thought he was prepared. Space had always been her goal, after all. From the first time they had met, she had her face turned upward and stars in her eyes. She had spent years working, training, learning to be the best she could be in order to reach her goal.
He supported her every step of the way. He was there for the grueling workouts and endless study sessions. He was there for the breakdowns, shaking some sense into her when she doubted her own power. And he was there yelling in celebration when she was finally selected. He knew this was the culmination of years of hard work, and the fulfillment of her dream. She would finally get to experience space. She would float, weightless in the universe, and see how tiny Earth can feel against the backdrop of stars.
Knowing she was leaving hadn’t prepared him for the void that appeared when she left, vast and aching. They could still exchange messages, and did so as regularly as possible, but her physical presence in his life was a reassurance he hadn’t realized was necessary. He knew she thought about him, loved him, even. Her messages made that clear. But some days it wasn’t enough, he craved a closeness that wasn’t possible when she was flying miles above Earth.
Those were tower days. Everyone in the city knew the tower, it was the go-to spot for tourists and elementary school trips, but for them, it was special. On one of their more rebellious adventures, they had discovered the maintenance door, which led them to the spot. It was high, higher than the observation platform, higher than anyone was supposed to go.
When he was missing her too much, when the void threatened to swallow him, this was where he needed to be. Up here, the lights from the city were below him and he could see the stars. He could pick out the constellations she had pointed out long ago, excitedly recounting their stories while simultaneously overloading him on scientific facts about them. She’d always been more of a talker than him, absentmindedly chatting while he listened. So it was only natural when he was up here that he’d hear her voice, telling him that Aries is a winter sky constellation, and his eyes would pick out the patterns her fingers had pointed out.
During the day, or when the sky was obscured, his eyes strained to see her station, wishing for a glimpse. But at night, he could sit there at their spot, sitting as close as he could to where she was, and watch the stars for hours. He wondered what she saw, looking down on Earth. He wondered if she could see the tower, if she could even see the city. He wondered if she watched Earth like he watched the stars, and if the stars looked different from her perspective.
Eventually he’d have to move, leave the tower and go back to the ground, continue on with his life. He’d message her, she’d reply, he’d count the days until she returned. He always gave the sky a little wave before he left, though, just in case she was watching. See you again.
snowghoul
areudirty
dailybridgerton
pixelskylines
