We are born into a realm millions of miles above the earth. Our imaginations run rampant as we familiarize ourselves with comets, asteroids, and Orion’s belt. Star clusters and galaxies emit a brilliant glow against the onyx backdrop. Planets seem to dance in their orbits, ensconced in the light of a great star. At the nucleus of the solar system, we own a bird’s eye view of the world as we know it. Rapt in childlike wonder, we meander through space, flirting with gravity and the contingency of things that live beyond our knowledge. Eager to explore each brimming pocket of the universe, we know no borders or limits.

Stars. They define us. We align ourselves with them as modest Virgos, fiery Scorpios, or coquettish Libras. We follow our horoscopes. We are enraptured by their uncanny accuracy sometimes. We are amused by their relatable absurdity most times.

As a birthday arrives, we cross a familiar point in our revolution around the sun. Yet, the stars seem duller with each passing year. We must stretch our arms a little farther to reach them

I am five. The world is weightless. The future is a tangible being floating a few meager inches away from my face, waiting for me to claim it as a bandit. A jolt of euphoria courses through my body as I prepare to grasp its coy wings. Then, I lose my balance. It skims my clammy fingers. I was so close. It slips out of my reach, careening to the opposite side of the solar system. My mouth hangs agape as everything I have ever wanted becomes elusive. Then, I become clinched by a crushing wave of gravity. Perplexed, I approach the milk-white swirls resembling the earth’s surface. Time becomes amorphous and waxy. I succumb to its binding pull with clenched fists. It’s a hot stream. Like quicksand. It feels slippery as it wraps around my body, forcing me downward, toward the earth. My body goes numb. My only thought is, don’t look down. By now I am completely enveloped, a motionless entity hurtling through time and space. I am no longer infinite.

~

It was a large gap. Time was unaccounted for. Each year, my vision became less brilliant, no longer peppered by vivid nebulae and the haloes around Saturn. Dreams became void and vacant. Each star morphed into a black hole ready to imbibe my curious ambition. My inquisitive fascination with the world was obliterated. I no longer dawdled among radiant bodies in space. The future was no longer a mystical winged creature inviting me to a game of chase. The future obstructed my view of the solar system. Each star was once an ambition, a landmark written in indelible ink which I vowed to reach. Each hope was a prized concept, a trophy I would hold onto for dear life. I promised never to let it out of my grasp.

Apoapsis: the point at which an orbiting object is farthest away from the body it is orbiting. I was knocked off my feet and out of my orbit, overwhelmed and bludgeoned by insecurity. Gravity pulled me away from my dreams as I cascaded. I plummeted back to earth. For my whole life, I had known the obsidian sky, lit brilliantly by the neighboring galaxies and its trinkets. They were no longer in my orbit.

Apoapsis. Submerged in the real world, miles under the brackish water, I struggled. Longing for clarity, I thrashed like a shark. I flailed desperately in an attempt to swim to the surface, wondering, what happened to the physics of space? Where do I belong now?

~

And here I am, longing for the surface, paralyzed by the novel darkness of the depths. But perhaps, this is just another fantasy. Perhaps, reality is just another backdrop. What can happen if I propel myself against the current? I kick and shoot forward with all my might. Bubbles filter the sea, enveloping the water in their animated rapture. I will reach the surface, but I will not stop there. I will launch myself higher. I will soon return to my starting point.

~

And suddenly I am back in space, wafting through time and tumbling without a purpose. I free fall and trace figure-eight’s, unsure of what will happen next. The future is infinite once again from this perspective. I wander aimlessly, immersed in an elevated deep end. Light and airy, I no longer rush to travel from one place to the next.

I now have enough energy to glide back to Earth. This time, I build my own route. I write my own story. I float in the delicate arena between earth and sun. I sail. I allow myself to travel effortlessly from one landmark to the next. I regain the childlike wonder I began with. I am not afraid to let go.

Apoapsis. At five, I was aligned with the stars. Today, I am aligned once again. The stars do not tell me, “You will receive a compliment from a stranger today.” The stars tell me to dream big and let my ideas condense like clouds. The stars tell me to reach for them, open-fisted and hungry with desire. I let the stars rain over the planet as I keep them in my clutch.

The stars tell me to lose myself in the dream, erasing the line between where it ends and where life begins. Apoapsis tells me it’ll all be worth it -

it’s in the stars.

We are born into a realm millions of miles above the earth. Our imaginations run rampant as we familiarize ourselves with comets, asteroids, and Orion’s belt. Star clusters and galaxies emit a brilliant glow against the onyx backdrop. Planets seem to dance in their orbits, ensconced in the light of a great star. At the nucleus of the solar system, we own a bird’s eye view of the world as we know it. Rapt in childlike wonder, we meander through space, flirting with gravity and the contingency of things that live beyond our knowledge. Eager to explore each brimming pocket of the universe, we know no borders or limits.

Stars. They define us. We align ourselves with them as modest Virgos, fiery Scorpios, or coquettish Libras. We follow our horoscopes. We are enraptured by their uncanny accuracy sometimes. We are amused by their relatable absurdity most times.

As a birthday arrives, we cross a familiar point in our revolution around the sun. Yet, the stars seem duller with each passing year. We must stretch our arms a little farther to reach them

I am five. The world is weightless. The future is a tangible being floating a few meager inches away from my face, waiting for me to claim it as a bandit. A jolt of euphoria courses through my body as I prepare to grasp its coy wings. Then, I lose my balance. It skims my clammy fingers. I was so close. It slips out of my reach, careening to the opposite side of the solar system. My mouth hangs agape as everything I have ever wanted becomes elusive. Then, I become clinched by a crushing wave of gravity. Perplexed, I approach the milk-white swirls resembling the earth’s surface. Time becomes amorphous and waxy. I succumb to its binding pull with clenched fists. It’s a hot stream. Like quicksand. It feels slippery as it wraps around my body, forcing me downward, toward the earth. My body goes numb. My only thought is, don’t look down. By now I am completely enveloped, a motionless entity hurtling through time and space. I am no longer infinite.

~

It was a large gap. Time was unaccounted for. Each year, my vision became less brilliant, no longer peppered by vivid nebulae and the haloes around Saturn. Dreams became void and vacant. Each star morphed into a black hole ready to imbibe my curious ambition. My inquisitive fascination with the world was obliterated. I no longer dawdled among radiant bodies in space. The future was no longer a mystical winged creature inviting me to a game of chase. The future obstructed my view of the solar system. Each star was once an ambition, a landmark written in indelible ink which I vowed to reach. Each hope was a prized concept, a trophy I would hold onto for dear life. I promised never to let it out of my grasp.

Apoapsis: the point at which an orbiting object is farthest away from the body it is orbiting. I was knocked off my feet and out of my orbit, overwhelmed and bludgeoned by insecurity. Gravity pulled me away from my dreams as I cascaded. I plummeted back to earth. For my whole life, I had known the obsidian sky, lit brilliantly by the neighboring galaxies and its trinkets. They were no longer in my orbit.

Apoapsis. Submerged in the real world, miles under the brackish water, I struggled. Longing for clarity, I thrashed like a shark. I flailed desperately in an attempt to swim to the surface, wondering, what happened to the physics of space? Where do I belong now?

~

And here I am, longing for the surface, paralyzed by the novel darkness of the depths. But perhaps, this is just another fantasy. Perhaps, reality is just another backdrop. What can happen if I propel myself against the current? I kick and shoot forward with all my might. Bubbles filter the sea, enveloping the water in their animated rapture. I will reach the surface, but I will not stop there. I will launch myself higher. I will soon return to my starting point.

~

And suddenly I am back in space, wafting through time and tumbling without a purpose. I free fall and trace figure-eight’s, unsure of what will happen next. The future is infinite once again from this perspective. I wander aimlessly, immersed in an elevated deep end. Light and airy, I no longer rush to travel from one place to the next.

I now have enough energy to glide back to Earth. This time, I build my own route. I write my own story. I float in the delicate arena between earth and sun. I sail. I allow myself to travel effortlessly from one landmark to the next. I regain the childlike wonder I began with. I am not afraid to let go.

Apoapsis. At five, I was aligned with the stars. Today, I am aligned once again. The stars do not tell me, “You will receive a compliment from a stranger today.” The stars tell me to dream big and let my ideas condense like clouds. The stars tell me to reach for them, open-fisted and hungry with desire. I let the stars rain over the planet as I keep them in my clutch.

The stars tell me to lose myself in the dream, erasing the line between where it ends and where life begins. Apoapsis tells me it’ll all be worth it - 

it’s in the stars.