Every so often the wind blows the right way, and the earth's ceiling fades into the most beautiful color. The sun plummets into the water and in the death of the ocean the moon blooms. The tides turn never against and never for you. It just turns. The grass glows to the light of the moon, and the trees whisper with the breeze. Strikingly, the night critters roam, disturbing the dust of memories and thoughts that sit dormant in your head. Brandon hasn't had less than love in so long that he’s forgotten how to live without it. Brandon is unsettled, as his world turns upside down. His lungs work harder and harder as he ponders his dearest. The air thins out. His mouth opens, but only a puff manages to escape his mouth. The silence continues to linger. A deep breath. “Oh, how the night sky will never change; with those constellations that we never knew the name of,” he said. “The sound of those crickets and our synchronized breaths will not in the least grow old. We made wishes upon stars, often having them be the same. The same wish of which appears again on 11:11. Our tradition of telling bad jokes and laughing anyway because of your chuckle will always, always, get me. Beneath the lights and your tender touch, it's not through stars that let me see. With your body against mine, it's not through your physicalities at which I can feel,” a beat and sudden silence. He murmured, “burrito-ed by our favorite blanket, wool, patches, checkered patterns, and all, I can feel you close; the one that understands me and cares about me the most. I’ve missed you. I've missed the time we use to share and the silence of the world when you were with me. It never needs to stop, we never need to stop.”

   Brandon sucks the tears back in. Nostalgia strikes him, his childhood dreams come flooding in. The voice in his head thunders, getting louder and louder, but all he can keep to is optimism. He will continue to try and find the light. He will meet the light. A gander over the tallest point of the tallest tree, he expresses, “these fields were meant for our footsteps. Our youth footprints when we used to frolic will fossilize. It will be known that this is our kingdom.” He shouts to the heavens, “may it be a day or 30 years passed now, our legacy will reign this region, and our memories will not fade.” He stumbles on his words,  “We will eternally rule this land.”

His arms continuously fatigue. Resting upon a branch, he makes amends with his clashing thoughts. Broken, “I’ve decided I can't do this anymore. I wanted to save these words and bring them here. This place that we both hold near and dear to our hearts, and I'll end it where our favorite memories lie.”

The distant waters crash onto the shore. A single goose flies across the sky above. What's meant to travel in company, travels alone; roaming the infinite firmament, and flying, never looking down. Brandon, though soaring high, looks down. In his vast space, he can't find the light. Finally, he resumes, “although I know you're still here for me, and present in my life, I've never felt so alone. With these final minutes coming closer and closer, I only ask that you forgive me for this very moment. I ask that you'll love me when I come back to you again. I ask for one last time we’ll point out that star we both like, but never knew the name of. We listen to those crickets and our synchronized breaths. We make a wish upon a star for each other, and again on 11:11. Our tradition of telling bad jokes and laughing anyway because of your chuckle will always get me. Tonight we celebrate our love, and tomorrow, I will reunite with you. ”

Now the sun rises and greets the newlywed. A goose without its flock has left the story unsaid. Now the tides still turn, and the sun still rises. The stars now hold the two new prizes. Time won't remember this point in its history. Time won't hold onto the present. Tomorrow’s a mystery.