When the stars in his eyes burn out, it’s like I’ve got an icicle in my chest, and the unbearable pain is crushing me from my inside, piercing my heart and numbing me completely. In that moment, the torture of his pain is more than I can take, and in that moment I wish the stars had turned into supernovas, so that even though I’d had been face to face with destruction and chaos, at least I could have been the sacrifice of his rage, that he would mourn. And I would sacrifice myself for him any time, over and over again