Ever since I was a child I knew what it meant if you could catch a star.

Happiness, warmth and light.

Things that most people in humanity, including me, can only dream of.

But despite the odds I kept dreaming that one day I would catch a star.

One day I would be happy and I wouldn't be alone anymore, because I knew my light,

My Star,

would burn brighter than anyone's star had ever burned before.

One beautiful autumn night I watched my star drop out of the heavens,

its etherial beauty lighting up the night

as its warmth echoed off the darkness which surrounded it. 

I ran and caught my falling star and when I held it in my hands. 

Its warmth shivered down my spine right into my soul and suddenly I knew joy.

For a second I could almost glimpse heaven.

But the fire started to sputter and dim until finally it went out.

And I was left with only a lump of coal blacker than the deepest space.

People say that ignorance is bliss and they're right.

The pure lump of darkness I had been left with burnt a hole straight through my hand

A hole which continued to grow until it had engulfed my whole body

turning me into a mere shadow of my former self.

People ask if it's better to have loved and lost or to have never loved at all.

My answer is simply this: you can't have misery without happiness.