She was the moon, and he was the sun.
She survived on the light he offered, mistaking it for love. Every night, she dressed herself in stars for him, waiting across lifetimes for a meeting that was never meant to be.
She believed the warmth he shared meant he belonged to her but the sun’s light was never hers alone. It was simply his nature, his quiet kindness, his cosmic duty. Poor moon, waiting forever… never realising that destiny had never written them together.
Some stories are doomed from the moment they begin.
She survived on the light he offered, mistaking it for love. Every night, she dressed herself in stars for him, waiting across lifetimes for a meeting that was never meant to be.
She believed the warmth he shared meant he belonged to her but the sun’s light was never hers alone. It was simply his nature, his quiet kindness, his cosmic duty. Poor moon, waiting forever… never realising that destiny had never written them together.
Some stories are doomed from the moment they begin.
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Yes mine is italic font...hmm yeahh