The sky's the limit

The stars glittered softly in the night sky, silently watching over the world below. They held the wisdoms of the universe, twinkling omniscently in the darkness. One winked out of existence as another one appeared. Perhaps obscured by the clouds, perhaps burnt out forever. One is born as one is taken away. How poetic. I wondered what happened to the ones that passed. Wondered if they could somehow, miraculously shine again. It was to them I prayed, to the pillars of the sky. As it was said that the stars showed the way home for those that were lost. I wondered if perhaps, just perhaps, they could show the way to other things. I stared at them longingly, as I had done the night before, and many nights before that too. Pleading silently in their embrace.

I closed my eyes in order to project my mind's voice, just like mama had taught me to, from what seemed like a long, long time ago.

"If you wish for something with all your heart. If you want it badly enough, and try your hardest to achieve it, eventually you will be able to get it. The sky's the limit!"

Now I squeezed my eyes as tightly as I could. Aware of every disturbance beneath my feet, every rustle in the wind. I couldn't feel the wind, of course, as I sat safely behind my bedroom window. But I could still feel the whispers of the breeze, filled with thousands of voices like my own, begging, pleading to the stars. I shivered, and pulled my blanket from the floor with all the strength my tiny, soft arms could muster. I wrapped it around me ever so tightly, sinking into it's warm embrace. The blanket was purple. The deep, mysterious kind, found at the end of the galaxy. It was mama's favourite, so naturally, it was mine too. The warmth of the blanket seemed to sheild me from the world. It was almost as if she was there with me, right here right now, cradling my tiny body against hers, humming as she ran her fingers through my knotted hair.

Her melody rang in my mind, the one transcended from her mama, and her mama before her. Like tiny windchimes, it came to me. When I closed my eyes, I imagined that she was looking down from the heavens, singing through the stars.

I let myself fall, for a second. To the sound of her voice, soft and rich like honey.

Please. I begged. Give her back to me.

The stars did not respond.

There were tears in my eyes, though I did my best to fight them back. Wiping the droplets from my cheek with my tiny, tender fingers. Some, I was able to wipe away, but most fell through my hands, pooling at my windowsill.

"Be brave. Stand strong no matter what." Her voice came to me again.

I took ahold of myself. Stifling the hiccups that jolted my body.

"Good!" I could almost hear mama say, "My brave little girl. Now get up and try again!."

It had been my first time on a bicycle. Or at least, first time on a real bycicle, one with no training wheels and a tiny purple basket. I had gotten it that day, on the dawn of my fifth birthday, and felt so special. None of the other girls my age had anything like it, nor the boys. They were hardly on their training wheels, let alone riding without them. I smiled delightedly at it as I pictured Billy Wrightson's face when he found out I'd learnt to ride a bike, a real bike, before him. It truly was the most perfect present ever.

Riding it, however, had proved to be anything but perfect. As I called down my friends that afternoon from the dining room after the party, they came eagerly. Hungry to see me mount my shiny new toy. There, I climbed on my bike for the first time, and there it all came crashing down. The thin, wriggly wheels swerved and slid from under me. The pretty purple basket plummeted sideways, splattering with mud. By the time I made it two meters from the driveway, I had already fallen more times than I could count. I was tired, frustrated, and most of all angry. It wasn't fair that this bike, so beautiful and delicate could not behave delicately too. It wasn't fair that I should have to be humiliated, again and again on my own birthday. Especially infront of Billy Wrightson. When I had made it far enough from my house, I sat on the hard, concrete ground and cried.

"What's wrong, darling?" Her voice flowed over me like the warm, summer breeze.

"I can't do it, mama." I sobbed, "You can do it. Papa can do it. So why can't I?"

My mother only smiled, "How do you think me and papa learned? We fell and we stood and we tried again."

I looked up at her, her face illuminated beautifully in the sun.

"Really?" I whispered.

"Really."

She reached over and wiped the tears from my eyes.

"That's better," She said. "Now, my brave little girl. Are you going to keep sulking and let Billy laugh at you or are you going to try again?"

I sniffed, clenching my fingers into fists, "Do you really think I can do it mama?"

"Remember what I told you?" She placed her hand on top of mine, "If you wish for something with all your heart. If you want it badly enough, and try your hardest to achieve it, eventually you will be able to get whatever it is that you want. The sky's the limit!"

I looked up at the sky now. At the holistic trail of fairy lights illuninating the night's sky. And realised that for the first time, no matter now much I longed for it, no matter how hard I tried, I could not get what I wished for. No one could. I knew it and the stars knew it. The sky was the limit. And she was beyond the sky.

This time, when the tears came, I didn't try to stop them. I let myself grieve. Let myself let go of all that I had tried to keep together for so long. For the first time, I let myself feel. Feel the sadness, feel the anger, feel the love.