Boy, where are you? Where are you now, who are you seeing, what are you doing, why are you not here with me? The questions get more irrational and irrational, I’m sorry. Beneath under this cold pain and lifeless, endless boredom encompassing maths questions, I want to go stargazing with you. Yes, it’s the middle of the afternoon, it is probably cold, windy and cloudy outside, and I have no idea who you are or where you are, but let’s go stargazing tonight. I don’t care if I don’t know you yet, but let’s go stargazing. Let’s go in your car, if you have a car…if not, let’s walk together. Let’s find an open meadow where the skies are expansive and limitless. Wear your best (and warmest) clothes, bring your best pair of binoculars, let’s go, let’s go!
It doesn’t matter if we get there and I still don’t know you. It doesn’t matter if the skies are weeping or if they’re wearing a grey blanket of cloud. I’ll still be there with you, waiting for the clouds to part, waiting for the stars to twinkle and shine, something about our atmosphere making them shimmer like that, yes. I can’t wait to see them with you.
But what if the clouds do not dissipate for us? What if we do not see the stars tonight?
Boy, it doesn’t matter. By the end of the night, I probably still won’t know you as well as I would have liked. But I’ll have gone stargazing with you, because the stars are not in the sky, but in your eyes and your soul.