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Yet strangely, after that night, while my increasing proximity continue to expand my view of the star around it, the black hole was actually shrinking like a contracting pupil. The raw frigid air, the bleak landscape, the taunting drones of cars driving by, and the trash around my feet was both comforting and depressing. Whether this was truly the eye of God, I could not be sure, but one thing I was certain of was that it was my death. Along with the face of a goddess, she had a figure that made a mockery of the word “perfection”. Being able to wake up and see her each morning, even if for less than a minute, she supplied me with enough will power to endure the life I didn’t want. I turned around and walked away.