Cindy stared down at the college ruled notebook, her eyes unfocused and glazed. Her hand wrote mechanically, penning words she wouldn't understand until later. The sound of wind chimes drifted gently through the open window, and for a moment, it seemed to snap her out of her daze. She cast a quick glance at the moving curtains and sniffed the air - it smelled sweet, fragrant. Summer was almost here. Tears threatened once again and she huffed, turning her head back down towards the paper. Her hand had stopped moving and to her surprise, she found smeared blots of blue ink on the paper. She reached up slowly and wiped her face, hands trembling. Was it always going to be like this? Would the heartache never stop?

I lit a fire with the love you left behind...

And it burned wild, and crept up the mountainside.

She closed the notebook with an air of finality and stood. The house suddenly felt stuffy, constricting - if she stayed one more minute, it would suffocate her, squeeze out the life she was barely holding onto. She strode towards the back door, paused, reached for the doorknob, closed her eyes, waited. Nothing. She squeezed it, turned the knob, and stepped out into the cool evening.

It was beautiful out tonight. Fruit trees blossomed around her, and if not for her heavy heart, she would not have been able to keep herself from dancing in the petals that drifted from the trees like snowflakes. A lump formed in her throat as she cast her gaze upward, into the night sky.

I followed your ashes into outer space...

I can't look out the window...I can't look at this place...

She found herself walking, staring straight ahead, averting her gaze from the familiar house across the street. She picked up her pace and rubbed her arms, a sudden shiver going through her despite the warmth that still lingered from the setting sun. Two weeks. The two words shook her to the core and tears threatened again. Two weeks ago he was still here. It seemed like an eternity. The trip to outer space...just like they had so many times before, except this time it was just the two of them, gazing into the vast expanse of the heavens, still awed by its beauty and splendor, expounded on by the fact that she was there with him.

I can't look at the stars...they make me wonder where you are.

Stars...up on heaven's boulevard

And if I know you at all, I know you've gone too far

So I...can't look at the stars.

Her feet were carrying her somewhere, but she was no longer paying attention. All she could think about were those dazzling blue eyes - so full of life, and love, and passion. The way they lit up when he discovered something. The way they'd darken when he was angry, or lose their glow when she insulted him. The broad spectrum of emotions he could express with just that one feature...it still amazed her. Or it did, at least. She walked a little faster.

All those times we looked up at the sky

Looking out so far, it felt like we could fly.

She could still feel the warmth of his hands when he touched her, his hesitant stuttering when he was trying to express the way he felt without the aid of science jargon. Too many years, he'd said. Too many years of arguments and jealousy and competition. He adored her. That's what he had said: "I absolutely adore you, Cindy." It was at that moment her common sense had abandoned her and she had thrown her arms around him, hanging on like he'd disappear if she let go. Maybe it was the delayed confession, or the look of terror on his face as he told her...had he really thought she would reject him?

But now I'm all alone in the dark of night

The moon is shining, but I can't see the light.

It suddenly seemed darker outside and another shiver shook her shoulders. She still refused to look upwards. Would it always be like this? Would the night sky forever remind her of the last journey they took together, what should have been the beginning of undefined beauty? Of how she had lost him?

I can't look at the stars...they make me wonder where you are.

Stars...up on heaven's boulevard

And if I know you at all, I know you've gone too far

So I...can't look at the stars.

She suddenly found herself walking on soft grass, her footsteps muted by its gentle cushion. She sniffed softly and continued, cursing the unfairness of life, or a life cut short. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. A light that burned so brightly shouldn't be extinguished. It filled her heart with longing and anger. It should have been her. It should have been her.

She stopped walking, as if on cue, and fell to her knees in the freshly fallen dirt, placing her hands on the rough stone, running her fingers over the name, mouthing it noiselessly. After all they had been through...all they had seen, all they had survived...and this was it. A simple glitch in the system, and the rocket had gone plummeting to earth, billowing smoke, panic alarms drowning out her terrified screams. And then he had looked at her...just looked at her...and she knew, in that moment, what he was going to do. If not for her terror, she might have been able to stop him.

It was like she was watching from the outside as he took her hand in his, suddenly calm, and placed it on his heart. His eyes bored into hers and they conveyed emotions she no longer could interpret. But even before the words left his mouth, she knew. She knew. She had always known.

"I love you, Cindy Vortex."

Then like awaking from a violent nightmare, he had kissed her softly on the lips, and in the next moment, picked her up and thrown her from the burning rocket. She had fallen screaming his name until she slammed, nanoseconds later, into the icy waters of Lake Retroville. She wasn't sure how she knew...she just did. The force sent her downwards, but with a few powerful thrusts she surfaced, coughing and spitting, ears ringing, chest heaving. She screamed his name again, head twisting this way and that, desperately searching for him until her eyes landed on a burning glow in the sky that seconds later collided to the earth in a violent explosion that knocked the air from her lungs. The earth itself seemed to shake and the world became one of opposites - up was down, night was day. She didn't realize what that explosion had really meant until she had swam to the shore, and stumbled to the crash site only to find...nothing. The rocket was gone. All that remained was burning ashes, the smoldered stench of the earth filling her nostrils. And it was then it dawned on her: he was gone, too. She had screamed.

"Jimmy!"

"Jimmy," she whispered softly now, still tracing her finger over his name. Tears blurred her vision, much like they had that night and she rested her head on the cold slab of rock, sobs shaking her shoulders violently."I love you too," she choked out and bent her head downward, downward, the light of the moon forgotten and the stars twinkling unnoticed in the darkening sky.

So I...can't look at the stars.