"She's amazing.
I want to be just like her."
Because when I was a little girl
I would see stars in green-and-blue pleated skirts,
beautiful,
taking no heed of the awe in my eyes but only seeming to bask in their glory,
walking with purpose, undeviated, soft smiles breaking into laughter
as they chatter loudly with their friends.
They were going places.
They knew what they wanted,
and they grabbed it by the throat, shaking their dreams from fate's fingers
and ready to claim them as their own,
while my inexperienced hands fumbled in the foggy darkness in front of me,
I didn't know what I was grabbing for,
I couldn't see where I was going.
But when the stars passed by on the bleak horizon
I could point and whisper to the sky,
I want to be just like them.
