OnlineBookClub.org

When I was little I got these glow-in-the-dark stars for my bedroom ceiling.
I loved outer space, so I kept them up for years.
When I got older, I took them all down but one.
I left a single star above my bed into adulthood.
Over the years it symbolized different things.
For a while I imagined it was the place that other intelligent life in the universe came from.
I thought maybe we weren’t alone, and I imagined some other being out there in the universe looking back at Earth. Back at me.
For a while it represented the future. Life after college, an apartment in the city somewhere, or the little cabin where I’d write my books.
Recently it’s represented Italy, and a life I’m severely longing to go back to.

Now it’s gone.
I took it off the ceiling.
While it may seem like a little plastic glow-in-the-dark star might not mean anything, for me it always represented hope in some capacity.
But I am so angry. So confused. Numb, maybe. I realized that right now, that numbness is stronger than the hope, even if it shouldn’t be. And I need to experience this numbness, even if it’s uncomfortable.
So I removed it.
Now I’m wondering how a little piece of plastic could come to represent so much over the years, and how its absence could symbolize rock bottom.

This is brilliant in it's reflectiveness.
And I think (for many at least to varying
degrees) most of us have that plastic
star.

Some take it down themselves.
Some have it taken down by others,
or by virtue of accumulated
negative life experiences which prevent them
from ever feeling past the numb anymore.

But. Yes. Most have our "plastic stars"
for certain.

(I hope you someday put yours up again.)