The night sky was full of stars, but no moon. The company of my boyfriend lying next to me in the grass comforted me. I loved coming out to the field when the moon was gone from sight. No one bothered me as I laid back and counted the stars. My older sister used to bring me out here before she moved away to college for an astronomy degree. She would lay back with me, our fingers folded behind our heads, and tell me the stories of the stars. My favorites were the ones from Greek mythology.
But now, instead of my sister, I brought my boyfriend out here. It was a big deal for me, because I never came out to this hill with anyone but my sister. I was so worried at first. Would he hate it? Think it’s stupid? Want to leave? Fall asleep? The nagging fears ate at me through the whole drive. Once we laid down though, they dissipated at his first question: “What’s that big orange one there?” I followed his pointing finger to Jupiter and smiled. A passion ignited in me that felt warm beyond just my love for this man. Hours of him asking questions and me telling stories went by as the very stars I told stories of rolled across the sky. Although my hands itched from the grass and dew was beginning to seep through my jeans, I had the most wonderful time that night. And I think he did too.