Once upon a time, the sun and the moon shared the sky. The sun lived far away from the moon, and didn't know what it was like with the moon, for he lived alone in peace and she, she lived with bright lights and crowds and never alone, so she came to visit. And the moment they met, the moon fell in love. The moon showed the sun the beauty of his world, showed her the emptiness, taught her what it was to live in the silent company of itself, gave her all the light he had to give; he made her stars, gave his stars wrapped up in a dusty silver shawl.
The sun wasn't impressed.
She tossed his stars away, took his light and left.
He stood in the dark, bone blue, empty sky. And there was no light, as he'd given his all to the sun, and the little bit he'd kept had no want to shine. He tripped and stumbled, and the dark threatened to swallow him like locket in the unforgiving sea, when one of his stars, his light that he'd split and shaped into diamonds for the sun to were, if only on the soles of her shoes, came back.
"You're not alone." it whispered. "Here; take my light."
"Your light?" the moon looked at the star "But you'll fall without it. And I will be alone."
And the moon did. And then, then, the star fell down, down, in a blaze of glory and light that lit up his world again... But the moon was alone, now, and light was worth nothing to him if he had no one to give it to, no one to share it with.
Except now, it had light.
The sun's light shown out the moon, but from time to time, at the moments when the he doesn't mean to fall to his knees and he does, anyways, at the times when he curls to his sides and wonders whether it's possible to die from heartbreak, at night, the stars fell for the moon and out shown the sun, and in this way he survives. The way he survives is beautiful.
And the moon needed the stars to fall for him, to die for him, but each time they left, a pirced hit his heart, or, what was left of it. He nodded to the universe, saying thank you for the life it had installed in him, because he can't move without quivering or breath without ice cracking onto his skin. Yes, he's living, he's alive, but there's a difference between living and living, and he's not there quite yet, though maybe he should be, and maybe someday he'll stand a burst out of his icy shell and outglow the sun by himself, but that day's not today.
And the sun shown on.