Twinkle

... I'd gaze into the sky at night
And wish upon a satellite
So far away it twinkled bright
And played a star for me to see....


I just read a post by Justin where he talks about watching the stars with the boy he loved but could never have. It reminded me of that stanza, part of a larger poem I wrote years ago; most of the rest isn't very good, but those four lines have stuck with me for 20 years now. The only other line I remember, the last line, is: "A lilac bloomed, the star shined on."

You see, I wrote that poem the day I realized I was gay - I mean, the actual day, within hours, of realizing I was attracted to guys and what that meant. The lilac, therefore, was me - or at least that side of me. I didn't allow myself to be very emotional when I was a kid for a variety of reasons, so this whole concept of "attraction" was a big deal.

The star, though... I grew up in East L.A.; even after moving to the suburbs, the city lights were often bright enough that all you could see were the brightest of stars and satellites. I had to make do with what was available at the time.

I think we all wish on satellites ones in a while. We all allow ourselves to pretend (or at least hope) that someone or something is different than it actually is, even when we know better. We see the truth, know its essence, and still make the wish. We have to, if only for a while, pretend it's a star.

I don't see that as a bad thing. It's the basis of hope, of dreams, of aspirations. Yes, we can cause ourselves heartache and pain, but sometimes even that has its uses. And sometimes, once in a while, a satellite can play the part so well that no one need ever know it isn't really a star.