She's been working for weeks on painting a dream onto a canvas, never to be seen.
He stands over her at the top of the stairs, points to the stars, and says you missed that spot there.
He is correct, she's left out the moon. Her dreams always ended much too soon.
Even in her sub-conscience mind she doesn't deserve such a beautiful man. He will never take her hand and begin forming plans. He'll tell her she's not worth his precious time. He'll say she is not pretty or special or kind.
Yet here they are, and so unaware. He's still standing there at the top of the stairs. Never a soul will she share, the painted canvas where the moon is bare. How did he know she didn't include it? Because he knows her heart though he'll never pursue it.
He believes his path is simple and set. The man in the moon knows he is incorrect.
No one said it would be easy to be misunderstood, but sometimes there is better for you than just plain good.
Her heart, none the less, remains in the stars, she makes no attempts to push him too far.
The canvas won't hang on a gallery wall. He will continue to make her feel ever so small.
The biggest decisions are clearly the hardest, but what is life without the moon to guide us?