text: You groan, feeling your shirt sticking to your back. The vast football field stretches out in front of you, brimming with life, cheers erupting as someone scores a goal. The floodlights make everything a hazy white. You mull over what you’re going to say once more but the words elude you, fear slowly settling in. What are you going to say? What if it all goes wrong? You try to reason with yourself. It won’t go wrong (this was sheer optimism) and even if it does, you had nothing to lose (this was you trying to downplay the worst outcome.) The one thing you did know was that you had to do it right now, or you’d regret it later. Your final year in college was upon you and time was steadily slipping from your grasp. You despair, doubt once again seeking comfort in your mind. You look up to the stars, as if to seek divine guidance but end up seeing familiar pattern of silvery white gaze back at you. It reminds you of a very important day when the night sky was not merely a taut canvas dotted with stars in the background, but the main actor in a conversation with someone that had brought you to this very pavement on a humid September night with your heart in your throat. Your first encounter with him was unmemorable. In hindsight, you try to look for facts that you can exaggerate to create a sensational tale but the bitter truth stands--the first time you saw him you did not even care to look at him twice. You were tired from a project that had took two sleepless nights and you prolonged going back to your dorm, lest you had to deal with your roommate again. Partly because you felt extremely lonely and partly because of the fact that you didn’t want to confront her about her ability to be noisy no matter what she did. You sat with the only person you had managed to befriend over the span of the semester, but sadly they were not as antisocial as you were, so you awkwardly sat alone, fiddling with the layer of plastic that managed to peel off of your notebook. The table was occupied by other people and the person sitting immediately next to you was ensconced in his chair, hunched over the backpack in his lap with eyes concealed behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses. He looked like he was preparing to defend himself from some unknown attack. Perhaps the only reason you even noticed him was because his stalwart frame was oddly incongruous with his quiet demeanor. Its funny how when you didn’t even know him, you found solace in his silence. It made you feel a little less alone. The second time you saw him, however, was much more eventful. Unfortunately for you (in retrospect of course) you had been swept into a whirlwind romance with a very questionable individual--the affectations were initially charming, but soon reared their ugly head in every conversation, making them seem less cute and more annoying. The endeavor abruptly ended in a mere three months, not really surprising you. When you were still engaged in it however, you ended up going to a friend’s birthday together. You remember putting on your favorite black dress, with pink pinstripes at the hem. You would be lying if you said it was more for you than for your date, whatever the reason was, you felt nice. You remember your date scrutinizing you from head to toe - and then making a comment you did not even fathom. ‘You have really big eyebrows.’ You subconsciously bring a hand to your eyebrows, smoothing them over. They were still big, but a little less unruly then before. You had yet to have your big self-love moment, but perhaps letting go of that lard was a step in the right direction. Naturally, you were not your happiest that night. You felt sordid; uncoiling and coiling your scarf around your neck, the cold air nipping at your bare neck but the tiny frayed threads making it prickly and uncomfortable. The carousing accelerated by the second, and your date had disappeared. You nestled yourself further in the couch you were sitting on, wishing for some portal to emerge and suck you into it, teleporting you far away from a crowd that was turning rowdier by the minute. When your delusions of reprieve couldn’t keep you entertained any longer, you decided to step out. You expected to find an empty porch but to your surprise you found the backpack-clutching-angry guy crouched over the porch with his hand extended, fixated on something before him. When you stepped closer, you realized that it was a cat. The feline meowed, alerted by your presence, causing the boy to turn and look. His eyes didn’t seem to light with recollection, making you think that only you had noticed his presence that day. He looked like he had something to say but he refrained, and looked back at the cat. The orange and black in its fur contrasted with the white, which was rendered a bit dusty. It indolently licked itself, and the boy retracted his hand. ‘I uh, I’m scared of cats,’ he spoke, as if trying to justify what he was doing. You didn’t know what to say. He looked almost guilty, as if you had caught him in some nefarious act, but you could somehow understand his need to explain himself. The strange part however, was how his statement contradicted with his actions. You crouched down next to him feeling like an interloper in a private interaction. ‘They don’t really bite or anything, not unless you provoke them,’ you said, not knowing what else to say. You liked cats, but only from afar. It was one of the two rules you had upheld due to your acute fear of failing responsibility; no pets or children. ‘I have one at home,’ he continued. ‘Its an outdoor cat though, but I don’t pet him. I feel like he’ll bite.’ The cat, disappointed at the hesitance shown by him, proceeded towards you. Reluctantly, you ran a hand over its smooth fur. You could feel the kinks of its backbone, but not satisfied with your shaky hand, it slipped out from under you, only to settle itself in the boy’s lap. Time stood still. He was now completely frozen, hand in midair and legs, stiff. But even in this spectacle you could sense a tranquility that you couldn’t define, so you left it alone. He awkwardly lingered his hand over, and then gently pet the cat. Feeling yourself an intruder to this intimate moment of self-conquest, you trailed your gaze over to the stars. The lights had rendered it a hazy maroon, but you could still make out some of the stars from where you sat. The only one’s you recognized, formed a clear pattern, one you could identify anywhere. ‘The Big Dipper seems to be pretty clear tonight,’ you said, not really addressing anyone in particular. It was your feeble attempt to make conversation. You had time to kill and you’d be damned if you have to step inside that house again. You felt a stir next to you and when you turned to face him, you were met with an inquisitive gaze. ‘You’re into astronomy?’ he asked, expectant. You didn’t want to disappoint, but your knowledge had been pretty limited. Up until middle school, you pestered your parents to buy you a telescope so you could see the stars, but the intrigue soon dwindled when you entered high school and by the time you were in college it had buried itself in the depths of your mind with the rest of your unfulfilled desires. It poked out in your allusions sometimes when you wrote. While your desire to know them scientifically had subsided, you couldn’t deny the poetic resonance they held in their being. ‘Not really, it’s the only constellation I can recognize.’ ‘Its an asterism,’ he said. ‘Eh, semantics.’ ‘No no. People commonly mistake the two, but an asterism part of a larger constellation. In this case it would be the Ursa Major. It looks like a bear but-‘he stops midway. ‘I’m sorry for rambling, I’m a huge astronomy fanatic.’ ‘Its alright, we all have our things.’ You couldn’t help but feel a bit envious though, you had become so emotionally latent that you didn’t feel that passionately for anything anymore. Any semblance of reticence he had washed away after you had expressed your interest. You can’t remember clearly everything you talked about that day but it had devolved into physics, planets, the intrinsic nature of human despair (your contribution to the bit) and then finally, something you can recall as clearly as the sky which you’re gazing at right now. ‘Hey,’ you pointed out when the silence had settled in once again, ‘Looks like you got over your fear,’ you said, pointing to the cat, who had completely nestled itself in his lap. His frame was more relaxed now and he was resting his hand on it, a fact that was unbeknownst to him. When he finally realized it, shock dawned on his face. ‘I guess I did,’ he said, smiling triumphantly. It reminded you of a child who had earned his first gold star. In that moment, you realized you had been smiling too. ‘Do you know Roche’s limit?’ he asked out of nowhere. You shook your head. The only Roche you’d remotely heard of was Edmond Roche, and you doubted that a violinist had piqued his interest. ‘It’s a distance around a celestial body within which a secondary body overcomes its gravitational attraction and disintegrates,’ he said. ‘So, if you’re inside the Roche’s limit, you’d turn to dust,’ he said, gesturing with his hands but failing to emulate the effect. ‘It sounds like a very poetically profound concept,’ you said, looking up at the sky. ‘But I don’t get how you got reminded of that.’ You’d lost all concept of time while you talked to him, but the stars remained where they were, as if suspending you in an inanimate moment. He laughed. ‘It is. I couldn’t help but liken it to the current situation I’m in. It seemed like I’d inadvertently approached the Roche’s limit and my defenses ended up breaking down.’ You turned to face him, and found him facing you. Part of you wanted to think that what he said was not about the creature that lay sleeping peacefully in his lap. Your moment could not last long however, for your phone rang and unceremoniously dispersed all the enchantment. Turning it over, you immediately soured when you saw a familiar name, one that you didn’t really feel like associating with. ‘I have to go.’ You got up. It was late and as much as you disliked it, you were with someone. No matter how much of a douche he was, you had to respect the fact. ‘That’s alright,’ he said, back to staring off in space. You lingered for a while, and ended up not bidding goodbye. If you had, it would’ve formed a clear conclusion to your meeting. And you didn’t want that. You wanted some illusion of continuance because there was something magical about that night, maybe it was the saucepan shaped asterism in the sky, or the light breeze, or those gentle moments that you shared with a stranger. Whatever it was, you felt like preserving what you couldn’t pursue. Maybe you were straying close to Roche’s Limit too but you couldn’t cross over just then. The entire ride back, you kept your eyed fixed on the Big Dipper. Your first relationship ended soon after, rendering you a bit saturnine. It was inevitable, but the outcome was most amicable, you were rid of a burden you wished not to carry but that didn’t make it any less lonely. The Big Dipper was a distant memory as you progressed into your third year. College too became routine, and you found yourself too busy to wax lachrymose. The one thing that changed though was whenever you went out, you made sure to look at the sky, eyes always wandering in search of something. The boy had been from the electrical engineering department, which explained why you didn’t see him often. You wondered why he had chosen not to pursue something he was so passionate about, but you never had a chance to ask him about it. The few times you did see him, he was laconic and spoke with careful restraint, a complete antithesis of what he was that night. It made you feel a little special though, you saw something that he had so carefully concealed. It had taken you many attempts to find out his name, and just one more to end up with his number. The third encounter you would have with him was going to be now, on a completely ordinary day, with humidity hanging in the air and mosquitoes nipping at your bare feet. You finally decided to seize the coincidences and actively asked to meet him, with every cell in your body willing to protest. But then again, you really had nothing to lose. If he rejected you, you would’ve gotten back to routine and if he didn’t... You’ll think of that later to avoid all the butterflies in your stomach. The din rises as the game continues. The haze seems to be dissipating. You see someone jogging in your direction and your heartbeat speeds up a little. In less than a minute but more than a lifetime, someone is looming over you, with ragged breathing. He wipes his forehead from his sleeve and hands you an orange soda, one that’s now lukewarm. You’re not a fan of orange soda, but you graciously accept. He sits down on the pavement next to you. ‘Weird, the forecast said it would rain today.’ The sky couldn’t be clearer, and you see the familiar asterism staring down at you, as if to give you its blessing. You felt it now, it was visceral and perhaps too abstracted to put into words but your entire body was consumed by it. You realized that you had finally crossed over. Fists clutched, heart hammering in your chest, beads of sweat hanging from your temple at a time that couldn’t be more right, you turn to face him. And then you smile.