She told me to look at the darkened sky, to see the stars and the clouds and how they inched up upon one another as if they were trying to conceal the other. She’d say, they’re trying to be alone and in plain sight at the same time. I used to admire this habit of hers, her ability to stare at the sky in all its perfect naturalism and adore it. She tried to show me the constellations and teach me something, but I never had an eye for stars. She’d tell me to look at this one, watch how it connected to a centerpiece to form belts. I’d nod and pretend I could see what she saw. And I realized my life was…