Have you ever just stood outside at night, looked up, and acknowledged how impeccably beautiful the stars are.

So pure and so confident they are beautiful, in abundance and sometimes the one lonesome star instead of many.

I remember as a child when I learned about wishing upon a star, I did that all the time, every chance I got.

But as I got older, I realized, I started wishing for the stars rather than wishing upon them. Let me explain.

I stopped wishing upon the stars but rather I began wishing, pleading for the stars to become something more than stars.

In my case, I wished that every star in the sky was not just a star, but rather love or happiness.

Think about it, what if every star in the sky was love in your life, every star was unwavering love that was yours and yours alone.

What if every star was happiness that was yours, Imagine having that much, how amazing life would be.

Maybe life would be as beautiful as the stars. But for me, each star in the sky was pain.

Every night I was reminded of that pain because there was just so many of them, how could I ignore it?

But I ended up learning something in school, I learned that a star was not really a star.

Stars are actually just residual light travelling to earth from a star that had died a very long time ago.

Which means that pain, like the stars, will never leave no matter how hard you try, there will always be some left behind.

My stars are pain. There’s so many and they could be anything.

You’re all a star in my sky. A source of my pain. All of you.

Babe, you’re a star, you hurt so much but you're impeccably beautiful.

Help me.