“I don’t want to be the center of anyone’s universe, ” he said. “I don’t want anyone to rely on me. ”
But he’s got it all wrong. He is not my sun and I had no plans to play a planet in his galaxy, tethered to him by his gravity, stuck in his orbit.
Yes, I found him attractive. Yes, I found him funny and kind, wise, smart and oh so easy to talk to. But I wasn’t blinded by the sight of him.
He’s got it all wrong, I had no intention of being his moon. I wanted to be the center of his universe. I wanted to take care of him, to sooth all the hurts, kiss away the pains.
For you see, I am the center of my solar system. At best I was willing to share, have a system with two suns perhaps? I wanted him to feel the effects of my gravity.
Now he’s a comet whizzing in and out at intervals, but my solar system was better with him in it as a regular point in the sky. Polaris. Even behind clouds, it’s nice to know it’s there. A constant.
Yet it’s been cloudy and a long winter. I long for the warmth of other suns as it were. So I suppose it’s time to reach out to new adventures and boldly go forth.
But while I may roam, I will leave the key under the mat for him.