Two girls gazed up at the stars.
Two hands met in conjunction.
Two voices were silent.
Sometimes feelings, much like stars, can be categorized, neatly labelled, and arranged in constellations of sentences. At the end of the day, the way we interpret them is a fiction we created. There is no bear, no hunter in the sky. Just tiny people observing the infinite vastness of the universe, trying desperately to weave together a perfect story from the tiny threads they can glimpse.
But what harm is there in trying?
After all: it is fun to sit with your love and stargaze.