Gazing

There we laid, upon grass that lightly tickled out necks, as we crossed off another cliche - star gazing. With the light breeze fluttering between our toes, you traced a finger across my arm and said that stars made you realize how insignificant we all were, in the grand scheme of things. In the eyes of the universe we are but a speck. I disagreed. Look at all those millions upon millions of stars, I said. Screw the stars because they are the ones that are insignificant. Each one twinkling with the same one-pixel glow, half perhaps already dead by the time its light found its way to earth. I turned to you and affirmed that there was only one of you, there ever only will be one of you, and what I had was more impressive than the stars.