Tonight would be the night when I would tell you about the stars. Tonight, of all nights, when the dark, moonless sky will be burning with shooting stars, debris of the above creating a celestial fireworks show that would shine only for you and me. Tonight, we'd travel through space together, we'd blaze with the shooting stars, we'd shine like the distant constelations. We'd see each other under the starlit sky, and we'd know. But tonight, of all nights, the sky will remain dark, veiled. There will be no sound of crashing waves echoing far below us. There will be no whispering of the pine trees. There will be no stories about ancient legends, forever printed in mankind's memory with invisible lines that connect the stars. There will be nothing - only the dark, the usual dark.