The Composition of the Stars

Three years after

“The stars look beautiful tonight.” I said, although my eyes hadn’t left those of the woman standing in front of me.

“Not as beautiful as you.” She recited jokingly.

“You’re so fucking corny,” and yet laughter bubbled up in my chest. In truth, I felt the same; no sight could have compared to the way she had floated down the aisle in a train of gold and white. It was as if she’d been kissed by glittering stardust.

“You love it,” she knew.

“I love you,” I offered sincerely, “I love you so much”.

“And I love you.” Her face gazing back at me was as bright as the stars above us, illuminating the night in a haze of fairytale.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked, nerves settling in as I scanned the crowd of friends and family, all of whom had their eyes on us.

“Of course I am. I have been since the moment we met.”

“Seriously?” I questioned with a quizzical brow.

“Yeah, I knew you were perfect then and you’ve proved me right every day since.” I searched her face for any indication of sarcasm, but found none.

“Again with the corniness!” I joked, hiding how genuinely touched I was by her sentiment.

“Alright, alright. I suppose we should start the ceremony? Since I’ve admittedly been ready for quite a while now.” She nodded towards the officiant, indicating her to start.

I laughed, feeling giddy with excitement, “You’re right. But for the record, you know I knew on that night too, right?”

“I know.” She whispered. We’d never burned brighter.

Two Years After

“You know, I was afraid of stars before I first met you.” I admitted to her. We laid comfortably on the couch of our home, a fireplace burning a few feet away.

“How so?” She asked. Even after all this time, I was amazed by how much there still was to talk about with her. Our late-night conversations were a constant source of fuel.

“I just always found it to be overwhelming to look at them. They’re so far away and so big and bright; they made me feel insignificant in comparison.” I shrugged at the admission, but my shoulders were heavy.

“Do you still feel that way?” The concern in her eyes made me want to explode, in a good or bad way I couldn’t tell.

“Well, no, but I think that’s thanks to you.” I curled up closer to her, feeling vulnerable as I explained, “You find the beauty in everything, and you made them sound so wonderful that I wanted to see them through your eyes. You make me believe that, maybe I’m not able to illuminate a night sky, but that’s okay, because somehow I’m bright enough to be loved in your beautiful world, and really that’s more than enough.”

One Year and A Half After

“Can you chill out for just one second?” She burst out. Her light brown ponytail snapped to the side as she turned to me.

“No, you know what, I can’t! We’re talking about where we want to live, this is a big fucking deal and you’re just acting like its a huge joke.” Every time she made a snappy joke to the realtor or turned down an affordable place for some fantastical reason it boiled my blood.

“You’re right, we’re talking about where we’re going to live. It needs to be great. It needs to be somewhere we can have fun! I don’t get why you're acting like such an accountant.”

“Because it’s a business deal! We need to be realistic here.” I tried to reason.

“I am being realistic. I realistically don’t want to live in a shitty apartment that barely gets cell service.” She quipped back.

“And I don’t want to live in some modernized hell hole that’ll put us in debt for the rest of our lives!” I barely realized we were shouting, it was like time was on fast forward.

“Well maybe this is all just a mistake.”

With that, time should have halted, but instead I spun onto a whole new level of pissed. “Oh you don’t get to do that! You don’t get to call off our future because you don’t want to live without a pool-sized bathtub.”

“We are moving awfully fa-”

“Don’t start with that bullshit. With you it's always your way or the highway; we burn bright or we burn out. I’m sick of it. This is a relationship. We’re grown adults, we can compromise like anyone else.” I think that was the first time I’d ever interrupted her. It was definitely the first time I’d been that honest with her. She stood there, her eyes blaring for what felt like an hour as my heart beat out of my chest. Then, she walked over to the pro and con lists I’d laid out on my coffee table and sat down.

“Let's take another look then.” She finally conceded. A laugh bubbled up in my throat and I went to sit in her arms. We talked and negotiated for hours, not falling asleep until we’d made a plan.

One Year After

“Your spontaneity was cute and all in the beginning, but you know I hate surprises.” I muttered. I wasn’t sure how anyone that knew me would think I’d like to start an evening blindfolded, but we do crazy things for the people we love.

“Just trust me, we’re almost there.” She promised. I didn’t like the mischievous hint I heard in her voice. I’d been forced to put on the blindfold when we got in the car. By the time we parked I’d been about ready to throw up, but I still let her lead me out and walk me to wherever the hell her surprise was. I felt dirt underneath my shoes, and now I was really concerned. If this was anyone else, literally anyone else, I would have said no in a heartbeat. But this was her, and there’s no way I could have disappointed those green eyes.

“Okay, here we are. You ready to see?” She sounded giddy, and I imagine that her dimples were showing as she grinned at me.

“Yes, get this thing off of me!” I jittered impatiently. My movements stopped when I finally saw what she’d done. The dirt I’d felt had been on the forest path, leading to a clearing with a brilliant view of the night sky. She’d elegantly set up a picnic, complete with a spread that must have taken hours.

I was still for what was probably too long because she asked, “Do you like it?” with an uncharacteristically shaky tone.

“You’re ridiculous, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of it.” I mutter softly.

“Is that a yes?” Now I can really see her dimples, and I never want to stop looking at them.

“Yes, it's wonderful,” I exclaim. We pop champagne and spend the whole night looking up at the stars, feeling the weight of the moment pull us together.

Three Weeks After

A professor once told my astronomy class that stars, though they look wonderful, are formed from clouds of dust. Turbulence beneath these clouds gives rise to the gas that forms constellations above us. I laughed so hard at this that I had to walk out of class, and only one person in the world could have understood why.

After texting back and forth about scheduling (and about my discovery of hot chocolate bombs, and about her frustrations with her moody cat, and about pretty much anything else we could think of) for weeks, we finally landed on a date and time to meet.

“You look even more gorgeous in the daytime.” She gushed when she first saw me. My face must have matched my red dress. I had never met anyone as forward as she was and it made me want to throw up and fly at the same time.

I stumbled my way through conversation on the car ride. She’s a shit driver, by the way. I honestly thought I might die, but it would have been worth it to see her grinning at me at every red light. When we got to the restaurant we’d intended to spend the night at, it was closed, forcing us to walk in our sparkling heels to the crowded sports bar across the street. All that time texting and we’d messed up the most important part of the plan; must have been all the distracting cat videos we’d sent in between.

Apparently there was a game happening, because everyone in the bar had on the same blue jerseys and were yelling at the TVs. She seemed to know what they were talking about, but that didn’t help how ridiculously out of place we looked. We managed to laugh about being two well-dressed lesbians in a cloud of blue, ordering greasy food and beer to match the absurd mood.

“Ope, you got something there. Hold on, lemme…” she wiped ketchup off my lip, and that made my hands shake so badly that I knocked my beer onto her lap.

“Oh God, I am so so sorry.” I repeated all the way back to her car. She assured me that it was fine, that she had another dress in her car, but I still felt awful. “I really don’t do this often, I’m sorry I’m so nervous.”

“You mean you don’t drink beer and watch the game every Friday night? Shocker.” She teased and poked my ribs. I couldn’t help but giggle, the pit in my stomach unwinding.

“Well yeah, but really I meant this. Like what you and I are doing.” I sighed, pinching the skin on my hands and looking at the pavement as I admitted, “I don’t go on a lot of dates, as you can probably tell.”

She stopped, partially because we were now at her car, but mostly to make a point: “You know why I have an extra dress in my car?” I looked up to shake my head. “It’s because I was so nervous about tonight that I couldn’t decide on an outfit. I thought I might still change my mind on the way to pick you up, so I threw every option I had in the trunk.”

“You can’t be serious.” I gaped up at her, but at this point I’ve seen the way her eyes sparkle when she’s trying to make me laugh, and this isn’t that.

She shrugged, popping the trunk in a theatrical gesture. I peeked inside, and sure enough there was a new outfit lying neatly within it. “I wanted to look nice for you.” She told me: an act of fierce vulnerability.

That’s when I learned that the prettiest things can come from the ugliest of origins. My professor’s lecture only confirmed it.

That Night

“Parties aren’t your thing?” I heard from the distant background. Turning back, I saw a girl hovering behind me on the grassy hill, her frame only illuminated by the moon above. I shrugged in return, turning my gaze back down to the grass I’d been picking at before the interruption. Nonetheless, the moonlit girl persisted, sitting next to me on the hill. “The stars are so clear out here, it’s nice to get away.”

Without looking up, I muttered, “Yeah, I’m sure they are.”

“Well you’d have to look up to see them, darling.” The other girl laughed. Then, in a move far too bold for a first interaction, she reached out and tilted my head up. The movement was abrupt, yet gentle, and I found little resistance within myself once I saw the constellations above us. Bright and overwhelming, they almost made me look away, but the presence of the stranger next to me somehow put my mind at ease.

“The stars really do look beautiful tonight” I whispered, leaning on the other girl’s shoulder. We may have been strangers, but it was as if our souls had intertwined in the night’s sky, making them impossibly and irrevocably connected.