A window, a star, and a ladder

It was more than hot in my room. I was sweating like mad, as I had been on and off for months. Maybe a piece of me hoped that winter would bring some relief, but it didn't. As I've been told, the snow only means it's warm. But, this was after I decided that I needed to open the window.

The window was big. It was heavy. It did a pretty good job of keeping things out of my room, and keeping things in. Like a thermos. But I was dying... I mean, I had to shut the window to warm the room up. I remember when I was freezing in there. Not good times, awful times-- and everyone who saw me in that room knew it. So, I closed the window. It was the best thing to do, for me. Now, what was I thinking now? Open it? Crazy. No way.

I told people about wanting to open the window. About the heat. I think I just needed to hear other people say that I needed to. After all, I couldn't see myself sweating... and I don't think anyone else did, either. One of my friends seemed as if they were to push me through the thick glass pane if I didn't open it myself. However, my friend did seem to be comforted by the fact that I was going to open the window, because the heat was obvious. Rats.

So, I opened it. And... I felt a little cooler. The trouble presented itself immediately: what should I do with just an open window? I knew what I wanted. But how? I went back to my desk. For hours, I tried to think of what I had missed. I opened it, didn't I?

What could I have missed?

I walked to the window, and I looked out. Strange, I thought-- I never noticed that star there. I mean to say, I never saw it. I knew it was there, because that's only reason why the room was so hot. Why, out of all the stars, then?

Have you ever looked at a night sky? I mean, really looked at it? Depending on where you're walking, there's a lot or not so many of these incredibly beautiful stars. But I always find myself searching for one that's particularly bright... one that seems to greet my eyes with its own individual light. And this is how I forget about the other stars.

When I went back to my window that night, I looked at my star. I stared at her. She stared back. She motioned to the ladder in the corner.

I picked up the ladder, set it in the window, and climbed up to her. When she'd finished laughing about how awkward I'd been climbing up, we noticed it was still snowing, and that it just meant that it was warm outside.