I hoped that she was watching. I wished that for every shooting star I saw, she would see ten. Even if she was with him, I wanted her to smile, be content. I wanted everyone to see the the sky the way I saw it, everyone I’d ever known and even the people I didn’t know. I wanted us all to be looking up, glossy eyed on a cold night, warm from wine. All of us, looking up and being amazed and making wishes, expecting them to come true. All of our eyes wide, open and fixed above us, staring at the same sky and realizing we were a part of something, a part of everything.