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January 4 - January 6, 2022
He looked at me like he owned part of my soul.
He’d never told me he loved me. I’d based an entire future with him on the things we hadn’t said, on looks exchanged and almost-touches. I knew I hadn’t imagined it, but I had no evidence of it whatsoever, not even a complete, unwavering certainty that Manning felt the same way I did.
I grasped at straws, feeling like I was losing a battle I’d always been so confident I’d win.
Manning had once told me you couldn’t move the stars. I’d thought that meant our love was predestined, written in the night sky, sure as death. Behind my lids, I pictured the two stars and realized for the first time the permanent distance between them. And I accepted that there was, and always had been, a third star. You can’t move the stars. I had tried, and I had failed.