The night dawns on me as I glance up at the stars: they combine into one. Each an individual star, yet a sky full of them. Kind of like this God blessed world. There’s so many of us, each an individual, grouped into one mass population on the earth. I wrap my arms around myself for warmth, because who else will? And I continue to gaze at the star-filled sky—mesmerized by the beauty—something I’ve found myself doing quite often recently. I wonder to myself how many other lone souls are imitating my exact actions right now. How many people are standing in the middle of a field, in the middle of the night, feet planted, arms twisted. I don’t even know how I got here, or even when I got here. But here I am, and nothing sounds less appealing than leaving. I tear my gaze off the stars and to the ground, contemplating the comfortableness of it. Without too much thought, my knees make the decision for me, slowly weakening and lowering me to the soft grass below. Flat on my back, hands folded over my stomach, the view of the stars is almost clearer, more beautiful. I didn’t know it was possible. I see so many stars; they never end, and I would never in my life want them to.