Shooting Stars

“Why do we do this?”



“Because we’re so good together.”



“For a few days. A few weeks, even. But then it ends. Again. Badly. Always does. We’re like shooting stars. Speeding through the night sky until they collide. A shower of sparks and we’re gone again.”



“But it’s glorious while it lasts.” He kissed my neck, just below my ear, and I shivered in his arms. “And one of these days we’re going to find a way to make it work.”



“Liar,” I shot back. But it was Christmas. And I wanted to believe…