Last night, I had a thousand wishes.

I laid on a picnic table in my backyard and stared up through swollen eyes. There was only a vestige of light that I could see in side you. The sun was long gone and the light that remained in the sky was of the moon or artificial.

While my world was becoming dark and empty, I tried to be still. I tried to relax, breath and summon some kind of visual focus. My head hurt. My heart hurt. My eyes hurt. But I wasn’t about to miss an opportunity for a thousand wishes. I needed every single on of them and I was certain they were for me.

I was promised an epic outburst at double the normal rate. An epic outburst. One that was said to be beautiful and magical. Touted as a once in a decade event that can’t be missed. I forced myself to blink and free the tears that kept hanging on to the corners of my eyes like little dams.  I needed to focus.

I had wishes to make.

“Where is the beautiful outburst of light?” I thought. I blinked and blinked and tried to be patient knowing it can take some time for my eyes to adjust. I knew the meteor shower was happening, and had been for some time, I just couldn’t see it yet. All I could see was a replay of your outburst. The kind I didn’t think I’d ever see in you…at me. The kind that scared me. The kind that demanded an answer to the question, “Is he even safe?” 

My head drew her sword on my heart, and I knew the answer before my heart raised her shield. I didn’t have the energy for this battle tonight.

I had wishes to make.

Facebook was filled with updates of couples and friends on the beach under blankets or in chairs. Families were circling together. They sat by fires, in good company, waiting for the darkest part of the night. They made plans and followed through with them, in anticipation of sharing and celebrating the celestial magic that was promised.  I was in the darkest part of the night, alone, while you slept. I waited to feel or see the magic that you promised me. I started to forget the promises and reminded myself they’re written down. You wrote them. I started to forget my wishes and needed to re center myself.

I had wishes to make.

I expected thousands of falling stars. Meteors that were hundreds or thousand of years old, that had circled the sun were to be burning through the atmosphere and lighting up our sky. The only thing you were lighting were cigarettes, which smelled like a stain on your skin, set in by humidity. The only burning I could see were the boards on a bridge we spent years building. The only explosions I kept seeing weren’t of light. They weren’t meteors left behind by the tail of a long past comet. They were the explosions of relationship links. One at a time they got hot and weak from the strain and exploded with rage

No loving  or believing or good intention could prevent it. Holding two sides of our chain was hurting, and I had to let go.

I had wishes to make.

I began to think it was too cloudy in the sky, too cloudy in my head, to be able to see the celestial magic that was promised. And as though exhaustion were the trigger, the universe blanketed the early morning hours of today with thousands of wishes. I saw them before the moon even set.

I told you about the meteor shower twice. You didn’t invite me to watch it under a blanket with you. You didn’t insist on coming over for a fire in the back yard. You didn’t have to wake early for work today, and I wondered for a moment if we were both looking at the same sky making wishes, before sadly not finishing the thought. I knew the answer. I knew it never occurred to you.

I had wishes to make.

I started to think through my wishes carefully.

I was wish planning. Wish assessment. Wish analisys. Wish prioritization. Wish paralisys. 

I thought I had wishes to make.

I realized that all of my wishes were for you. Not one was for us. Not one was for me. They were all for you. They were my wishes for you, not your wishes for you.

I sat up and stopped watching. I walked to the driveway as a coyote walked back into the woods. I wondered how long we were in each other’s company.

The universe is filled with meteors and dying stars. It’s filled with galaxies upon galaxies and the scope of the universe is infinite. Everywhere, everyday, every moment is filled with objects hitting our atmosphere. Even when we don’t see them, they’re there.

You deserve to make your own wishes.

I deserve to have my own wishes.

xo