An Apology to a Burning Star

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

What am I supposed to do to make you feel alright.

This wave of uselessness washes over me, clogging up my throat. It feels like I can't breathe

I can't help but think "I'm sorry", over and over again. You've lost someone so close to you, and I don't think I've even realised how much of blow it is. You're breathing is louder, and you keep brushing your hair back with both your hands. When you do that, they're always wide open, as if you're trying to grasp the pain from within yourself and drag it out, leaving it behind you.

Please, don't do that anymore. I'll stroke your hair and let you rest upon my shoulder. I'll pat you softly on the head, and tell you that you're doing a great job. I'll stay by your side, if only you'd let me. But you'd have to know about how deeply I feel for you to open up to me, and I can't risk that.

That cowardice only makes me feel more sorry. Endless apologies churn in my brain, clashing against the walls of my head, roaring like the vicious waves of a hurricane's storm.

Even though I haven't known you for long, I knew there was something different about your atmosphere. At first, I feared that you were growing tired of me. But soon afterwards, as I warily watched you pace back and forth, staring downwards, I knew it was something more important than my naive infatuation.

You slowly walked away, leaving me confused. When you'd gone quite a distance I ask about what's wrong with you.

Only . . . Only to find out that you'd lost someone to the cold grip of death.

And slowly, I start to sink. Sinking to god knows how deep. It's so dark down in the abyssal waters, and I'm starting to lose consciousness. But what I find down there, in the black waters of emotion, scares me.

Because it's the feeling of shame. The feeling of weakness. The feeling of no hope.

Sorry isn't good enough. Nothing I can give you was, is, or ever will be good enough for you. You deserve so much more.

Why did I straight away think this was about me. I'm not important to you. But I can't help it, can I? Why was I so shallow to think about my own situation, when you were suffering so badly, and I only noticed now.

You're so far away. I just want to hold you and say that you're such an inspiring person. Everything you say is like a revelation, and the way you hold your own is incredible. You're amazing looks wasn't what caught my attention. It was the way you acted, the way your actions sang out the message of how special you are. The way you talk, the way you smile, it makes a world of difference to me, and I can't help but look for you wherever I go.

Please smile. Just, just tell me you'll smile soon. It doesn't have to be to me. My chest tightens whenever I think of you showing that gorgeous smile to someone else, but you don't know that. You don't need to know that. So smile, until I burst. Because if it means that it'll save you, pop my heart like a balloon.

I can't help but think about you. The first time I saw you, I didn't think much, but soon, it was like you were the only thing I could think about. You're like a burning star, millions of miles away, a platinum white streak that sears my heart and sets it a flame.

But I can't stand next to you, holding your hand. I can't stand right behind you, pushing your back, encouraging you to go on. I . . . I, I can't be 10 steps, 20 steps, 100 steps, 1 million steps nearby, because this lowly being would perish in your holy light. That's just the kind of star you are. That's just the kind of star I can't be with.

Now, I'm realising how much you mean to me, and that means I'm realising how much we can't be together.

And it's killing me. Deep inside, in a place I never knew existed, it's killing me. It's dragging me to the depths of the underworld, and scarring me so deeply I don't think I'll ever recover.

But I know that you will. I know that you can, and like the star you are, you'll burn brighter and brighter, until I won't even be able to see you anymore. You'll achieve things that were thought to be impossible, and you'll travel so far into the cosmos, where only stars like you burn so bright. Like a black sky, full of searing suns, you'll burn with other stars, where you belong. Somewhere far away from things like us. Somewhere where my kind of people can't follow.

If there's anyone like me. I pray to god that he hasn't punished anyone with the curse of being like me.

But that's ok.

You know what, that's ok.

I'm ok. And you'll be ok. You'll be better than ok. You'll be flying soon. Far away. And that's much more than ok. That's wonderful, isn't it? Fly away, and leave me behind. Save yourself. A star like you would only shine as great as a table lamp with me, so go on.

Go on. Go. Now. Don't look back. Just, just go, I said. Just go. I can't give you what you want, what you need, JUST GO. GO ON. LEAVE.

I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . ..

Don't be sorry, it's my fault.

Don't beat yourself up over this, I'm so sorry.

I'm . . . I'm really. . . I . . . can't . . .

I'm . . .

I . . .