When You Need a Star

"I wonder if it's possible
to have a love affair
that lasts forever."

Andy Warhol


Although, I may come off as extremely pessimistic to some, I’m more realistic than anything else. I’m optimistic to a point. I hope this isn’t all too confusing.

Here’s the thing:

What destroyed me six years ago, has made me who I am today. This isn’t a good thing, I do realize that. However, no matter how much I try or how many times I seek to be hypnotized, I am always reminded by that one fateful night.

It was late. Near midnight and the sky was so empty. Not a star or a moon at all. I mean, I’m sure they were there somewhere. I just couldn’t find them for the life of me. And believe me, I looked! I searched like mad for a single star to wish upon. Barefoot, in my little boxers and T, I was cold but I kept that window open as I looked for a fucking star.

In between those hours I spent looking out the window, I dialed my boyfriend's number. I dialed and dialed and dialed. Each time, I got his voicemail. He was supposed to call me! It was late and I was used to his phone calls to wish me goodnight. It helped me fall fast asleep, knowing that as I lay down there was a human somewhere in this world loving me profusely.

I spent the early morning hours awake and anxious. Kept dialing. Kept searching. Kept sending pointless wishes to an empty sky. And finally, when a voice did sound after the hundredth call, it wasn’t him. It was someone else. Some other man. Some other fool who probably got to taste what belonged to me.

Days later, Carlos never admitted to cheating. He had simply lost his phone at a gay bar and some asshole had picked it up. I still left him though. I left because he said he would be working late. Instead, he was out dancing and boozing it up with easy fags. One lie and so I ran.

Ever since then, no love has ever been easy.