I Am Not

Day 6

After I had gotten dried off we spent the evening laughing and spending time together. Andy had brought us a disposable camera, and we took tons of silly pictures.

As soon as it got dark, the stars immediately caught my attention. It was my reaction to the beauty of nature all over again. I laid down on the ground and stared up.

How very similar we are to the stars. I wasnt very good at science but I did remember some things about astronomy. When a star is first born it shines the brightest. Probably because no one was there to tell it that it wasnt good enough. Then as time goes on the star dulls. It loses its brightness. This was probably the stage I was in when I was thirteen. Not yet dull, but slowly losing my spark of life. Then the star loses its luster. Its light is gone. But we cant see that yet. See the star was so far gone, that you dont even notice its gone for a while. But eventually it just blends into the sky. Which was the stage I was in now.

Somehow I felt like things were different now. What if I didnt blend in? What if my star actually just burnt out and is waiting patiently for it to shine again? Maybe even brighter than before? Is that even possible? I remember my eighth grade science teacher telling us that sometimes science contradicts itself. Something indescribeable and amazing happens, but its unexplainable. No one knows why. Is self-acceptance the contradiction to science?
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School was a drag the next day. Isnt it funny how one day you feel on top of the world and the next you're totally under it?

"Kate, wake up." I hear a stern voice. I raise my head up and groan. I fell asleep in journalism. Jusssst great. My teacher gives me a sympathetic smile. I mutter a few appologies and get up, grabbing my backpack.

"Before you leave," he says "youve missed a lot of school this past week." He says.

"I-Im sorry about that."

"We've had some major grades taken." He sighs.

"And youre going to let me make them up?" I ask giving him a shy smile. He rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

"How about this? Write an essay. It will count as every grade youve missed."

"What on?" I ask. He smiles.

"Thats the fun part. It can be on anything."

I stare at him. He walks out of the room. I know what he wants me to write about. He knows I know. Thats why he did it.

I rush out to the car where Andy is waiting on me.

"Sorry that took so long. I have an essay to write and my teacher was giving me the assignment." I say.

"Relax, its no big deal." Andy replies while smiling. "So whats the essay on?" he asks. I sigh.

"Anything."

"Sounds fun."

"Not for me. Im out of ideas."

"Easy. Write about nature."

"Whats there to write about it?"

"Kate, youre passionate about it. Tell why. Tell how it makes you feel."

The rest of the ride home is silent as I contemplate what to write. Maybe the little bit about the stars would be my essay. My teacher would be proud of my use of symbolism. Andy drops me off at my house with a quick kiss and a promise to text me later.

I run inside and head straight up the stairs to my room and grab my laptop. I start typing.

We are the stars. When stars are first born they shine the brightest. There are so many opportunities awaiting them. They can be a princess or a fairy. The possibilities are endless; however, after a while the star starts to dull. Its windows of opportunity closes. It starts to lose its imagination. Reality settles on the star. The pressure comes down on it. Then one day the star is burnt out. It gives up. The thing is: no one can see that. The star was so far away from everyone that no one even notices its burnt out. It just blends into the sky. Its simply another drone crowned in the pressures of the world. Trying their best to simply get through instead of living. We are the stars.

I sit back and re-read the words over and over. It was good. But it was missing something. I decide to send Andy an email of it and see what he thinks. I shoot him the email.

I get up, pacing around the room until I hear my laptop make a ding. Meaning an email! It reads:

Thats a wonderful idea;however, I dont think its entirely accurate. See, most people would represent the stars. But you. Youre different. You are the sun. Let me explain. The sun is the brightest star. It never truly stops shining. Every once in a while, there is a beautiful thing called a solar eclipse. Heres what happens: The moon slowly moves in front of the sun until eventually the sun is totally blocked by the moon. But the beautiful thing is, the sun still reflects on the moon.

Once again, Im awestruck. His discription is beautiful. This is what my essay was missing. I add another paragraph to the end of the essay.

In addition, the rare few also represent the sun. The sun is also a star;however, it is different in that it shines the brightest and never stops. It is full of opportunities and wishes. Fantasies. Then we have a solar eclispe. The moon slowly moves in front of the sun blocking it from shining his life. The moon is the problem. Its life. Its people. Its anything that blocks the sun. It doesnt want the sun to dream. It wants the sun to be pulled into reality. But reality is an illusion. Even though the moon has blocked the sun, inside the sun continues to shine its brightest. It reflects. You can see the reflection of the sun through the moon. In just a while, the sun will be there. Waiting to shine again. I am the sun.

I read through the entire essay as a whole again and foward it to Andy. The reply comes back almost instantly.

Perfect.

And I believe that.

I am not the stars.