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Great Red Spot

Jupiter is a planet two and a half times more massive than all the other planets in the solar system combined.
I am one person sixty-septillionths the size of Jupiter, and painfully aware of it.
My mind used to drown in the vastness of the universe.
Reaching, retching, stretching to touch the ever-expanding borders of a darkness it created and filled with solar systems that it will never understand.
A def composer of the most beautiful symphony ever imagined.
Somedays my mind would become so saturated with this burden that I couldn’t get out of bed, and I would hold myself under just long enough for consciousness to slip away-
but the drowning stopped on the day I met you-
the only person I’d ever known whose frequencies matched those of the universe inside my head, and for a brief while you became my Jupiter,

only this time I didn’t feel so small.
Now sometimes in your absence I think I may love you.
Other times I am just reminded that for over 400 years Jupiter has had a storm raging
that is three times the size of Earth-
three times sixty sextillion times the size of me.
And knowing that, how could I possibly love you?
I know I love the spaces you fill in me, and the stupefying complexity of the layers of your atmosphere but you’re six years of space travel away, its a long and lonely journey,

and you’ve got storms brewing in you with winds so ferocious they put my gasping exhalations to shame.
And knowing that I shouldn’t possibly love you.
But I’ve seen sunsets from your satellites-

the only time I’ve ever enjoyed having my breath taken-
and now I don’t think I can live without the hope of someday seeing them on my horizon.
From my telescope the 365 million miles between us doesn’t look quite so long,
I can trace your circumference with the tip of my pinky
and observe the endless expanse of your ancient tempest.
But the safety of this vantage point only adds to my longing- to be filled, consumed, overtaken by all the hydrogenous delirium your danger seems to offer, if only I had the courage to explore it.
Someday I will, I swear it.
But until then I will sit behind my telescope with my eyes shut so tightly I can see galaxies dancing on my eyelids,
I will imagine myself in the eye of your eternal storm looking out on the universe I created and filled with solar systems that I will never understand,
I will wonder how I thought up something as spectacular as Jupiter

and a 400 year old hurricane,
and I will continue to breathe in spite of it.