If I did something different, maybe even just one simple thing, would things have turned out differently? Would I be wrapped in someone else's arms right now? If I would have given in, would I be in another house, in another town, with a totally different person?

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, pulling me closer.

"Everything." I reply as I kiss him softly.

"You're not thinking about running off with someone else are you? Because I don't think I could handle that." He jokes, but I know he means it.

I shake my head and laugh. "No way."

I laugh because I have no regrets. I've learned how to move on.

If you would have asked me two years ago if I had regrets, I would have said yes. It was dark time in my life where the light at the end of the tunnel was shut down. I was beginning to think that I would be alone forever, but one day he just swept me off my feet. It was a love that I had no idea would come about. Of all the people I've met, he was the last person that I would have envisioned myself falling in love with. But now, I wouldn't want it any other way.

When I was younger I thought that I was boxed in, and that there was only one right choice. But I've learned throughout the years that you *can* bend the rules; not all choices are the right ones.

There still is a little corner of my heart that belongs to him, my past, but I've learned to get over it and move on. I used to wonder what I would say if he told me he loved me and wanted me back. I wasn't sure before, but now I would definitely say no. Because I found another person to love. And although I can't help but smile about the happy times we had together, it's the truth.

"Look at the stars... the moon." He says pointing up to towards the sky. He knows that I love that.

"They're shining extra bright tonight." I say, smiling at him.

"Yeah." He agrees. I can sense a little bit of longing in his voice. It's the part of him that wonders who his parents are, and where up in that big, vast galaxy he originated from. But I know if I asked him where he belongs, he would says, 'here with you'.

And the feeling is mutual. I glance at the clock and yawn, realizing how late it's getting. I snuggle closer to him as he tucks a strand of my dark hair behind my ear. A serene peace washes over me as I let myself drift off into sleep.

"I love you, Liz." He murmurs, not weakening his embrace.

"Me too." I reply. "I love you too, Michael."