Stars

 On one jacket I own, is a pattern of various stars. Some of them large, others small. While it might not be the warmest or even the prettiest, it's special to me because of those small stars.

 I don't know when exactly stars started being so special to me. Maybe it was on one of those days when I realized that compared to somewhere I'd once been, the sky I see outside my window now holds so few.

 Was it the day I saw the moon. Or the night the light came streaming through my window, bathing my bed in clean moonlight. The day I saw the full moon with clarity in its pale fullness. Or the night when the pale light eased my fears.

 I do not know exactly when the night sky came to be so important to me.

 All that I know is, I would not trade it. Not for the glow of the city nor spotlight.

 Nothing manmade can yet compare to the serenity of that comforting moonlight as it spills through my bedroom window.

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