I used to love the night-sky, all of the stars set against the dark sky. I used to wish on falling stars. Stare at the sky and wait for just one, so I could hope, dream that something I wanted to happen, something I wanted so bad would be made mine. You'd never tell anyone your wish, even if they were standing right beside you. That's considered bad luck, sort of like making a wish on the candles as you blow them out on your birthday. Telling those wishes meant they wouldn't come true either. Only one wish I made on a star ever came true. It was the one time I wasn't looking for a star, the one time I hadn't been wanting something and hoping to see one so I could make my wish. It caught me by surprise, I was driving one night and suddenly out the corner of my eye I saw it, the falling star, and as quick as anything I'd made a wish on it. And it came true. It was just a silly wish, something that I knew would probably come true anyway, but still, I wished for it and my wish was answered. Now I look back, and I think about what if I'd made another wish, hoped for something else. Would it have still come true? Was it the fact that I knew in my head already that the wish I made was possible, or was it that I hadn't been expecting to see the star at all?

Sometimes now I can't even stand to look at the sky, to see all of those stars, all of those dreams-waiting-to-happen set up there before me. Sometimes I can't stand to watch them in all their beauty as they dance before me, tempting me from such a distance. I've realized now it's not the wishes I want, it's not the wishes I dream about when the stars catch my eye and I am reminded once again how far away they are - I no longer find myself wishing on stars, but rather wishing for that perfect star itself.

Sometimes still though I stare up at the night-sky, watching the millions of stars twinkle and shimmer before me. There they stand seeming so close, but no matter how much I reach out, no matter how much I want to touch them and hold their perfect beautiful existence in my hands, I know they are out of my reach. That doesn't stop me wanting them, it doesn't stop me hoping that maybe some day, somehow I will be able to touch one and have it for my own. Maybe it's because they are so unreachable, so out of my grasp that makes me want one more. I figure that if they are pretty when they are so far away they will obviously be a million times better up close. Whatever it is that attracted me to them, I can't deny that they are all so beautiful and precious and special. Each one unique. I wished on them all that perhaps one day if I learnt to hold them without breaking them, I might just get one of those perfect stars for myself.

Then there it was - I found the one star I wanted. I wasn't looking for this star, I wasn't hoping or wishing for it. At first it was like the rest and there was nothing overtly special about it which made me want it any more than the rest. Then gradually over time, it came into focus. I noticed its own unique beauty which made me want to reach up and pluck it from the sky, and the way its light shone down on me blanketing me in a warmth I only dreamt about. It became clearer to me and I knew that this star was the one I wanted. It was the most beautiful star I had ever seen. That's not to say the other stars were any less beautiful than before - this one was special, it shone so bright and illuminated my world.

Each night my eyes would become fixed on this star, and I wished on all the rest in the sky that time would stop, so the day would not begin so soon and take my star away from me again. I wanted this star in my sight forever, and found myself hating the sunlight and wishing only for the darkness where my star appeared. My heart was set, I knew which one I wanted as my own.

Have you ever wanted something so bad that you made a stupid metaphor for it, say for instance ... a star. Because stars really are a good metaphor - even just one star. There it stands before you ... so far away but still visible, only just. And you know that no matter how much you want it, no matter how much you need it or reach for it ... it's still going to sit up there, so far away but perfect and so what you need. And you know you'll never get it, but you have to keep trying. I had to keep trying, and I would reach as far and as hard as I could to make it mine.

In the end I did what all stargazers will inevitably do when they find that one unique star that shines down brighter on them than all the others - I wished on that one star that it would be mine ...

It was my fault you fell right? It was because I told you, because I said those stupid words to you. I should have screamed it at the the sky, but never solely directed it at you. It wasn't fair of me, I should have known you would fall like that, I should have known it was wrong to want you for myself. I said those words and shot you down from the sky, you became a falling star and I lost you forever. I can never have you back, not the way you were nor the way I want you. You're gone, and there's nothing I can do. And now I can't even see you shining down on me, and I literally feel a million miles away from you.

Nothing hurts more than shooting that perfect star you love from the sky and watching it fall - except maybe being shot down by that star when it denies you the one thing you'd been wishing on it for. Now that would make me a falling star too, wouldn't it? I feel like I'm falling anyway ...