The Stars Lie

Five years ago, if you would have told me what was to happen within those next years, I would have told you that you were crazy. I would have told you that it wasn’t possible to fall in love with a one-night-stand, and I would have told you that it was impossible for me to spend a week tracking down the man that had warmed my bed for a few hours. I would have told you that you were insane if you would have suggested that I’d have a child with the aforementioned one-night-stand. I would have recommended that you find the nearest psychiatric facility if you had told me that in five short years, my life would go from its highest point to the very lowest that it could possibly be. And five years ago, if you would have told me that the love of my life, the father of my child, and the sun in my sky would be six feet underground, I would have told you to fuck yourself. I used to believe that everything was aligned perfectly with fate; that the stars have some plan for each and every one of us. I used to believe that those stars controlled our destinies here on earth, and that when we passed, we became one with those stars. But the stars lie, and it’s all just bullshit.

But to understand where I’m coming from, you need to understand who I used to be. You need to know the whole story, from the very beginning until the very end. And then—only then—can you truly understand what it means to truly love someone, and to truly have your heart broken.