Stars, hide your fires,
Let not light see my black and deep desires

I will never compare our love to stars in the sky. Our love was not like that. Stars in the sky are intangible. They are distant and cold and dead, they do not feel, they explode and die. They are impossible. Our love was like blades of grass. Grass, which is real and tangible and alive. It lives, grows, breathes. You can feel it under your toes in the summer, you can pull it up and eat the tips of it and feel the dirt beneath it. The dirt which is also living, or rather, full of living things. Earth. Real, sturdy and underfoot, that is our love. Count every blade of grass on the earth and that is how much I will love you and have loved you. So I’m sorry if you do not love blades of grass the way I do. I’m sorry if you would rather be stars in the sky, but you are already too far away for me to compare you to something that is impossible.