The night wind brushes past the hillside, I sit alone at the edge of an old viewing deck, My legs swing gently, as if trying to awaken this sleeping sea of stars. For years, I’ve always come up here alone — No one to accompany me, and I don’t need anyone to. Yet somewhere deep inside, a corner of my heart still aches, Reminding me that I once wished someone would hold my hand And watch this vast night sky with me.

The starlight above is so crowded it feels like it might fall, Yet it remains so far away from me. The thin moon hangs coldly, like a face suppressing emotion. The moon belongs to the yin, just like me — Alone, silent, Used to hiding my thoughts inward, not shouting them out.

I embrace the galaxy, yet cannot grasp anyone’s presence. The sea of stars accompanies the moon, like a shadow pulling me through all the emptiness. If loneliness is a kind of light, then tonight, Within this silver moon, I see my own outline slowly awaken. Even if I’m the only one here, I am still worthy of this beautiful night sky.

I raise my hand, just like when I was little, pointing at the stars, Imagining I could gather the entire Milky Way into my arms. As a child, I was so naive, believing that if my wishes were sincere enough, I could call back the people I lost and the happiness I missed. Only after growing up did I understand — Some people are like shooting stars: Bright for a moment, but actually drifting farther away.

That winter, I held a pair of warm hands. He said my smile was like the wind in the valley — clear and light. It wasn’t until the day we parted that I realized: The wind is too free, too hard to truly hold onto. Since then, I’ve never gotten used to anyone’s company again.

I embrace the galaxy, but cannot bring back the warmth I lost. The sea of stars and the moon illuminate the loneliness I cannot speak. If loneliness is a kind of light, then tonight, Within this silver moon, I see my shadow stretched by the wind. Even if the world is left with only me, I can still walk alongside this sea of stars.

Moonlight traces faint silver on my wrist, Reminding me that loneliness isn’t about lacking someone — It’s about not knowing which memory to surrender to After all the silence. I try to recover the warmth of being loved, But it’s like shattered light in a black hole — impossible to piece back together.

I gaze up at the night sky, take a deep breath of cold air, Let a small part of the galaxy hide inside my heart. The sea of stars stays with me, the moon’s shadow follows. Loneliness isn’t punishment, but a reminder: I’m still hoping, still feeling, still longing to be understood. I hold myself tightly, as if embracing the entire starlight. And in that moment, I finally understand — To embrace the galaxy isn’t to fill the void of someone’s absence, But to tell myself: Even if I’m alone, I still deserve to be gently embraced by this night sky.