How many ticks left in that clock work heart of yours?

Sometimes, it's like I'm living more than one life, almost as if I've been alive since the dawn of time. As a cave man, then Cleopatra, and Madame de Pompadour, and so on and so on.
But always a woman, and always an important historical figure.
Always.
But there was this one dream, and oh, it's my favourite. I'm a goddess, I go by the name Amaranthine, and I'm on another planet.
The catch? Those are rare and when I try to access them, I get sick and end up in bed for days. Nothing I take, medicine or drugs, can help me, so I stopped trying to access them. I don't want the pain, let alone need it.
So, I don't know much about that life.
But maybe in order for all of this to make sense, I should start at the beginning.

I was five years old, sitting outside in the cold winter night, with the full moon shining on the snow, causing the snow to glisten and gleam like a million tiny white diamonds. The stars were beautiful, and we didn't live in the city, we were out in the country, which allowed to us see our galaxy splitting the sky in half.
I was cold, freezing even. I wasn't able to feel my toes or the tips of my fingers, and my nose was running a little bit.
My parents had always had a hard time keeping me inside at night, especially on a night where there were no clouds in the sky. I always found a way out. So, they eventually gave up, and they learned that I would always come back.
Tonight was different. Tonight wasn't the night I met *him*. My imaginary friend, who would even continue to appear into my early teens then all of a sudden stop visiting.
I heard footsteps behind me, but the night sky held my attention, and so I didn't turn around to see who was approaching me.
"You're going to freeze, if you don't get a jumper, you know." He wasn't from America, or at least not from the south, he could've been from Maryland, but I'd never heard of the word jumper, so I think it was safe to assume that he wasn't from America at all.
"I don't care." I say still awe struck by the night sky. Something warm covers my shoulder, it was leather and it smelled good. I turn around to look at him and he was sporting a military cut with his brown hair, and he donned a purple shirt and black pants. "But ain't you gonna get cold?" He smiles ate, and it was goofy smile, but it was comforting.
"Nah, it's not that bad out here, you're the concern, can't have a kid freezing to death now can we." He didn't pronounce his h at all. I yawn, completely exhausted. "You're tired."
"Am not."
"Yes you are, now no complaining, let's get you inside." He picks me up, and quietly takes me inside my house, and into my room, where my night light is spinning and casting stars across the wall. He pulls the sheets back and lays me down on the bed, and pulls the sheets up over me, and he puts his jacket on. "Now, get some rest." He starts to leave but I grab his hand.
"Tell me a story?" He sighs.
"Alright, but just one." I grin and squeal, he sits down on the edge of the bed, and brushes the dark brown hair out of my face. "You like the stars, yeah?" I nod. "Then I'll tell you all their names and how they came to be..." He starts his story and goes on naming every star that was in the sky, and naming ones I'd never heard of, and sooner than I realized I was in a light sleep. The man kissed my forehead, and pulled the covers up. "Good night, your highness, I'll see you again."
With that, he walks out of my room and I hear the soft click of my door close.