Star

Dear Star,
Where to begin? This feels a little like saying goodbye to a lot of the past eighteen months, but there's far more to it than that.
At the time I met you, everything was a bit hazy and confused. I'd returned from the holiday of a lifetime, and had to re-adjust, filled with fear at the prospect of my realisation. However, you changed all that. I knew from the first day that you were special.
Looking back, it was odd. There were two of you, that night- and it was only luck that it was you who became all you did. Luck? Or fate? If it hadn't been you, things would have moved on a lot quicker. Three times, I saw here.
I lived the next week in a state of expectation, wanting to see you again. Then I did, and you smiled, and the wait was worth it. I don't know quite what the attraction was at first- people have told me that you're not stereotypically 'pretty'. But that's a compliment. You're not pretty because you're strikingly, amazingly beautiful.
There's been a lot of waiting over the past eighteen months, all of it agonising. The waiting started with never knowing when we'd see each other next, then went down one of two paths. Either I didn't see you shortly after arriving and spent time hoping you'd be the next person to walk through the door (whilst knowing you weren't there) or I saw you and waited for the next chance to smile and say alright. That was pretty much our only contact at first. I didn't think it would go any further; to be honest, I couldn't envisage much time knowing you, no matter how much I wanted to.
Come the summer, I heard that many of you had been laid off. Which, of course, wasn't really what I wanted to hear- especially as it was the start of the summer break I'd been so dreading. I saw you a couple of times over that summer- then headed off to Dawlish, determined to cure my 'heartbreak'.
It didn't work. When I returned to Bristol, confident that I'd never see you again, I was just as upset as I'd been beforehand. Yet in that confidence, some irrational part of me didn't give up- and that part was rewarded when, on the first night back, you also swung back into my life, with all the grace, ease and butterflies of a trapeze artist.
From there on, we started to get closer- at least, to the point of having short conversations. Somehow, somewhere, you turned up in the one thing that saved me over some of the worst parts of my life. After 5 months, I finally gained the confidence to tell more people the truth about who I was- and, eventually, who you were. As I had feared, it meant that more people could judge me- tell me I was stupid for ever even thinking about you. Conversely, through that, there were people who believed in it, far moreso than I could. I'd resigned myself long ago.
Sometime over the last year we got closer still. How and when did that happen? I didn't stop at the time to think; it just happened. We went from pleasantries to short conversations to- well, discussions. Which is where we are now- there will be nothing further because I knew from the start that couldn't happen. Yet I still went for it, and chose to hold onto whatever I could.
So much over the last year has been connected to you. Out of everyone and everything, you were the only one who inspired me- albeit unknowingly- to write and complete my first novella. You're the reason I love fireworks, the reason I came to see stars as luck.Without knowing it, you taught me to see the beauty in everything, and to accept everyone. There are a million valuable lessons I learnt because of you; I can but hope you learnt even one from me.
As well as the lessons, there are the memories. The times you made me laugh when I was at my lowest, and closest to breaking. When you 'accidentally' threw me in the pool with your sidekick. The three of us stood there, so, so different, yet united in our joke; and I felt completely accepted. You examined the so-called 'rash' on my arm, then pulled me into a hug, making a joke yet letting me feel as if you understood. The times I've stood next to you, saying nothing, just feeling happy and at ease. I'm not lying when I say you're one of the best hug-givers I know.
I've known for a long time that it's time to move on. One of the hardest lessons in life is knowing that, through no fault on anyone's part, the person you adore (I never professed to love you, I don't think I know what it truly is) can never hold that feeling back. Yet still I clung on.
Now, it really is time- but it's a natural ending. I feel a bittersweet nostalgia, but I realise I don't feel for you quite as I once did. Of course, you're always going to mean a heck of a lot to me, and you'll hold a special place in my heart, but not as before. I hope that soon we'll have to say a goodbye anyway. I want you to go off, and do the bigger things that I know are in you. Nothing would make me happier than to know you're achieving all you could.
At the beginning, seeing you for a few minutes was a success. Now I'll still see you, I'll hold back. I've got a million memories like this, but I don't want to make more of the same. I want to be able to see you in friendship, nothing more. I won't cry for you, because there's nothing to cry for. You can't lose something you never had, something that, in spirit, will remain the same as ever. Can you?
You can. Of course you can. But now, it's time to move on.
Thank you, Star. Thank you for everything.