Through the Stars in My Eyes

Alex talked to the stars every single night. He told them about his day, about the boy he was in love with, about the promotion he was hoping he’d get, and everything that he didn’t feel comfortable sharing with the other members of the human population. They were good confidents, stars were; they couldn’t gossip and they were constant. Alex liked talking to the stars more than he liked talking to most people.

Most people thought the blond boy odd for taking so much dedication to the stars. At this point, the stars were his only friends, and he was never upset about it. The stars were loyal, and Alex didn’t click well with people. He thought he was able to click with Jack; the ‘click’ didn’t last very long, though. Alex was head over heels in love; Jack was one of the many people who thought the boy was odd for talking so much to the things in outer space.

That night, Alex sat in the middle of his backyard on a fleece blanket spread over the grass, alone, and talked to the stars.

“His name is Jack,” he recited for the hundredth time. “He has eyes like places I’ve never been to before, but seen in pictures, but they feel like home. His fingertips are like the coming and going of the seasons, and his arms feel safer than any house I’ve ever lived in.” Alex let out a small sigh as he allowed his tense body to relax a little. It wasn’t a cold night, but he wished he’d have brought an extra blanket outside just in case, anyway.

“He’s a little bit younger than me, but not by much. I mean, he’s legal. So we don’t have to worry about that,” he mused, eyes flickering across the deep purple sky, the stars themselves twinkling like lightbulbs far away in the reflection on the surface of Alex’s irises. He wished he could get the galaxy tattooed on him so he’d have someone to talk to during the day when the sun was out; the night was friendly, yet the daylight sky was not.

“His nose is really big and cute, and he has little scars on his lips from where his teeth have pulled at the skin there. I miss kissing his little lip scars,” he whispered as he closed his eyes. He had the sky memorized; his eyes didn’t need to be open when he spoke. He knew where the stars would be. Sometimes, Alex named them, and he imagined what their voices were sound like if they could have voices at all. All of their voices sounded like a different variation of Jack’s, which was oddly comforting to the twenty year old Baltimore resident.

“His hands are so calloused it’s ridiculous. He has the cutest little chin shape,” Alex recalled. He never spoke of Jack this in depth, had only spoke of things he wished the two of them could have done. He never analyzed Jack for this long before, but he was really missing him, so he was going to do his very vest to try to remember all of the details of the raven haired boy’s face.

“I wish I wouldn’t have scared him off with you guys, stars. Does he talk to you about me, too? I hope he talks to you about me.” Previously, he hadn’t thought of this. Maybe the boy he loved talked to the star, or found confidence in the moon. He wished he knew if he ever crossed Jack’s mind any more, maybe while he was drinking coffee, or getting drunk, or showering. Maybe when he was falling asleep at night, Alex was on his mind. Maybe Jack was thinking about giving the elder a second chance — talking to the stars wasn’t the worst problem the boy could have.

— + * + —

“I miss him,” Jack spoke. He didn’t know why he was doing this; this was Alex’s this, something Alex liked to do. Jack couldn’t be bothered to talk to anyone about Alex, his Alex; it made his heart feel ten times heavier than it already was since the two had parted.

“His hands were like fireworks every time they touched any parts of my skin and his words were like the rain, soft and relaxing and easy to get into the rhythm of,” he said. He was standing off the balcony connected to his bedroom, hands folded, fingers curled around his wrists. “His eyes were like saucers and I never got tired of looking into them. I love him, I love him right now.

I know he talks to you about me. He’s told me he does before. I wonder if he’s doing it now; I wonder if he misses me as much as I miss him. I kind of feel bad about deleting his number; I hope he still has mine.” After what had happened, after Jack had freaked out on Alex like he did, he doubted Alex was ever going to text him again. Alex probably hated him.

No, he remembered. Alex would never, could never hate anyone.

“I don’t know why I miss him so much. I don’t even know why I’m doing this when I could be at his house. Maybe I’m just scared that I love him too much, or something — why am I doing this? You can’t even answer back,” he muttered, head burrowed in his hands, now. Even though the stars couldn’t answer, they seemed to listen, and they seemed to understand. Perhaps no one listened or understood Alex the way they should have, the way he needed them to, and that was why he took so much time out of his night talking to the stars.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Jack addressed Alex, spoke his name out loud for the first time in what felt like decades but had only been a matter of a few months. “Goodnight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Jack didn’t know if he was addressing Alex or the stars at this point.

— + * + —

“Goodnight,” Alex yawned, before turning to go inside. For a second, he thought he heard someone say it back, but it was probably his imagination, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jack ran off because Alex had introduced the stars by name. He told the younger what their voices sounded like, why they had the name they did, and why each and every star reminded him of his love in a way.

After that night, the stars became Alex’s only set of friends, and that was alright, because the stars listened and understood in a way that he didn’t think that any other member of the human population ever would be able to.