She laid down next to me, staring up at her ceiling, which she had covered in a little sticker stars detailing accurate representations of the constellations. “Tell me what it’s like,” she said.
“It’s anything you want it to be. You can have everything you want, you can be wherever you want, and I guess you can find anyone you want, although it’s kind of like finding a damn needle in a haystack.”
“But even though you have everything, it’s not the same, is it?”
“No, of course not.”
