can shooting stars rise?

Spring cleaning, I find a notebook. A 3-ring binder. I made it for a boy in high school. Not just a friend. But not a boyfriend. A special friend. I never gave it to him. But it has a collection of poems and letters and other writings to him or inspired by him or reminding me of him. And the first page I flip open to is a poem I wrote while sitting in Denny's on Mercer Island. 6 months after the accident we were both in. Feeling closer than ever, longing for a love I knew wasn't mutual, I wrote this poem:

10/10/96

She took a deep breath,

Silenced her mind,

And allowed her heart to the talking this time.

"Babe, I've been falling--"

"You're a shooting star," the boy said.

"True," the girl said, as she nodded her head,

"But, babe, I've been falling--

or I'm about to fall

for you-"

"Please don't fall, baby.

I can't catch you."

13 years later, reading these words, my heart stops and my chest fills with warmth. I roll my eyes and laugh at myself. Why? Because I see that I've been playing out this same scenario repeatedly with other guys over the years. I laugh because I just as easily could have written this a month ago, but with someone else in mind. However, there were some major differences and improvements in this most recent "reenactment," enough so that I think this pattern is coming to an end and that I'd have to edit the poem, changing myself from a star into something else, something that rises or flies rather than something that falls....