I once wrote about us, when we were still young.

I saw us as two astronauts, floating among brilliant stars; drifting alone through the darkness of space.

And then we came together, and we were no longer alone. We clung to each other as the only solid thing in an endless sea of emptiness.

We were safer together. We weren't as dazed. The universe seemed to stabilize. We regained our bearings.

But we were still floating, millions of miles from any of the stars we could see and the dreams we longed for.

We were together, but we were still lost.

We knew what we must do if we wished to ever escape the void we were in. We knew we must propel ourselves outward, but we had only each other to push off of. Despite the comfort we found and the love we felt, we must separate—flying in opposite directions towards the stars we sought.

I wrote this of us months ago and never told you. But I knew it was true. I felt it the moment I looked back at my scribbles on the page.

I tried to ignore it. I told myself it was just a story; some nonsense I made up. It didn't have to be real.

But here we are. And we both know it's time to push off.

So Godspeed, my astronaut friend. Stay safe and fly on.