“7.36 X 1022 Kilograms Doesn’t Make You Fat, I Swear”
I want to apologize. Every evening, I looked to you but never did I think that you had feelings, too. Like I, you might be heartbroken, or worse, the text you took twenty minutes to write was read but did not receive a response. All the while, long-distance couples look to you to find their lover in the sky. I can’t imagine how much pressure that must be. You are the symbol keeping everybody together and rarely can you take a break. In addition to everything going on, I feel required tell you I heard Soleil was illuminating other moons. It is probably just a rumor, but I believe it to be this girl Janus who hangs around Saturn. I don’t want you to get upset because I don’t even know if it’s true. But how that is how it goes.
First it’s illumination. Illumination turns into dinner. Dinner leads to moving in. The next thing you know, you’re seeing little sun babies every 365 days and wondering if four and a half billion years meant anything at all.
I understand how you must be feeling, which is why I feel the need to say I am sorry for putting so much undue pressure on you. If you weren’t lactose intolerant, I would send you some chocolates because out of everything in existence, you deserve them the most. I mean when was the last
Soleil sent you something? I’m sure he could at least manage flowers around the summer solstice.
I know I have no place expressing this, but you’re a strong celestial object, and you don’t need the sun. There are plenty of fish in the solar system. If I’m not mistaken, Pluto is a planet again, and I’m sure no one would judge you for getting coffee with a dwarf planet. Heck, girls on Earth don’t even consider dating a guy unless he has protruding abdominal muscles or a bank account that puts Bill Gates to shame. I would tell you to dip your feet in and test out the waters, but I’m afraid immersing all 7.36 x 1022 kilograms of you into the oceans would devastate Earth.
I hope you can forgive me and that I haven’t complicated issues further. Mars always tells me to stay out of the cosmic drama, but you know I can’t help it!
Love Your Favorite Gal Pal, Venus
by Kirby Phares