The Star sparkled only for me between 7 & 8
by Dexuality Valentino
It’s dark. I’m rolling back from the usual selection of bars, rolling seems apt rather than walking, walking is more one step in front of the other than the side to side forward motion my legs seem to have chosen for me. Everywhere is silent, I glance up and see an old friend. ‘Evening’ I said. The star glimmered back at me. It took me right back.
I was seven or maybe eight years old and I was watching the sky outside my window. I did this a lot when I was sent to my room usually for some kind of sulk regarding a food related incident. I was a fussy eater then, still am now. These days I don’t tend to get sent to my room though a bonus of being an adult i can choose what I eat. I can eat my dessert first if I want to, though I never do. I recalled those days room dark and silent. I used to lean with my chest pushed against the window ledge and my forehead pressed firmly against the window pane. My hands around my eyes to see into the dark sky better. I would try not to breathe onto the glass I had worked out that if I breathed downwards it wouldn’t steam up the window and cloud my vision. I noticed a dot looking down at me. Funny I had never noticed it before. But there it was shining brightly, glistening just for me. My little star.
The moon always looked a tad jealous of my star. Never shared the same space of night sky. The star seemed so alone up there probably was until we found each other, I used to think. I knew it was up there trying to catch my attention. I smiled and it twinkled back at me. That was the start of our friendship. We spent many hours discussing important things like dinosaurs, what was on tv, what our favourite books were, I even read up on planets and the moon so I could talk about such things I thought my star would know. To be honest it wasn’t that bothered about those things and seemed more interested in cartoons. It sparkled animatedly when I talked about the adventures of bugs bunny, or how the roadrunner had thwarted Coyote once again.
My glittering friend was a restless one and didn’t stay in the same place from one night to the next. I always found him when the clouds allowed. Which was most nights in winter and summer. We only fell out once. It was a silly tiff over whether it was fair the coyote always lost. He didn’t like that and thought that at least once he deserved a little victory. I would argue as loud as I could whilst being very quiet in my room, that the show wouldn’t work if that happened. He disappeared for a long time after that. I thought he was sulking. When he came back he said he understood, but I knew he didn’t really, he just missed me. But I never pulled him up on that.
Now when I look up and see my old friend I now know he was never my friend, he was just a dying planet far, far away. He had never known I existed at all. I tipped my hat and said ‘goodbye old friend’
As I walked on home I wished I was young again with my face pressed against that window.
Dexuality Valentino, Manchester, UK.
Written in Skin 