We sat diagonally across from each other at a dinner table full of mutual friends. I heard you cackle, hysterical, at your own self-deprecating joke. I remember how I was moved by the way the smile left your face with the revelation of its relevance.

I think it’s funny, in retrospect, how I thought you dyed your hair.

Before I learned that you were born with a star locked deep within you.

Before I learned of how that star burst forth in supernova and wove the threads that are now sewing glowing sutures on my soul.