Both of us had been born from the same radiant light, but while she was a being with innate talent and intelligence, essentially an existence that touched the sphere of perfection, I was just a dreamer plagued by ambitions and beliefs typical of youth.

Clumsy as I was, in one of my attempts to impress her and prevent her from feeling ashamed to be associated with someone as pathetic and useless as me, I used the light in my soul to create a small star. Though tiny, its beautiful and warm glow, combined with the dedication and time I had invested in creating it, made me feel very proud and satisfied with myself.

But where I had put all my devotion, time, and effort into creating a tiny and insignificant star, she had created a perfect universe, full of wonders and mysteries. So when she saw my small creation, her face marked with broad disdain, I could feel the disappointment and shame growing within her. I had given my all, and that was the best I could do—it was pathetic.

I fled, taking refuge in my small and insipid creation, which was the best someone like me could hope to achieve, and I locked myself away for an eternity, trying to forget. I could never impress her; the mere idea of even approaching her level sounded utterly absurd.

For I was nothing more than a dreamer with my head in the clouds.

With each passing day, I could feel her pride in me, for what I could become, fading away, replaced by the reality of what I truly was. I would never reach her height, the height of the greatest woman who could occupy the small bubble that made up my entire world.

For I am just a dreamer trying to touch the sun.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Cursed by youth, I became a fool of frustrated ambitions, whose own incapacity led him to the clearest and most obvious realization of all: I could not be like her; I was not capable of meeting the expectations she had for me.

She was a being whose intelligence was a diamond in the rough, while I was just a dreamer, a piece of coal cursed by youth.

I could no longer tolerate it, seeing her disappointment grow with each mistake, each failure, felt like millions of poisoned daggers stabbing my poor heart. This is how I came to my next revelation, the final truth: I would never become someone in this world.

All I regretted was that she had wasted so much time disappointed and ashamed by an idiot like me, so in a fit driven by my own youthful folly, I escaped. I could no longer face that lacerating pain. I tried to rid myself of it, but nothing worked. Desperate and fed up, I ran and ran, crossing the sea of the skies until I reached the unfathomable abyss of infinite darkness, depths from which no human could escape once they had come into contact with them.

I was sure that in that place we would never meet again, for an existence like hers could only continue to rise beyond the very heavens. Someone like her could never set foot in such an unholy and unnameable place as the one before me.

Driven by my youthful impulses, fueled by the emotions of an immature mind, I threw myself into that eternal void through which I am still falling, thinking that I could finally be happy, for I would never have to see her face and those eyes, which could only express disappointment and disgust every time they saw me. But I was betrayed by my own brain, for I could not stop thinking about her, how I had disappointed her, how her opinion of me would never change, and with this rash action, I had only confirmed how useless and cowardly I was.

Realizing that this would be the rest of my days, I let out one last howl of desperation and helplessness as my body was lost in the darkness.

But with only one emotion remaining in my anguished and beaten mind:

The regret of having disappointed the most important and precious person to me.