Plastic Stars.

Tiny orbs of yellow-green light shine into tinier brown eyes. The white popcorn ceiling is black with the darkness of an eight o'clock bedtime. Beneath a rainbow comforter and on top of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle sheets, a tiny mind stares at the platic stars above and holds onto dreams of a future life with the same intensty that the adhesive gum holds the constellations in place against the pull of gravity. Eyelids drift open and closed as they picture exploring Europe, knowing languages learned in the far distant era of high school. The tiny legs, with scarred knees from unhesitant games of tag plan to climb mountain ranges in Tibet and pedal bicylces in France. A belly grumbles from a bowl on Spaghettios not big enough and wheat bread spread with Country Crock while it begs for the delicacies of lands like Italy, Spain, and the vastly intriguing... Chicago. In the darkness, the small hands are raised and beneath the glow in the dark stars, they conduct an orchestra in front of thousands, fingers dancing to the tune as it is created in response, head dramatically turning against the pillow as it commands the strings to strum, the horns to blow, and the audience to arise in ovation. The life ahead! So much to do, and it would all be done. This tiny person need only need to wait for the freedom a decade away. Eight to eighteen and then the world would be claimed, the adventures would never cease, and all that was imagined would be realized.

Thirty years later. 

Tiny orbs of yellow-green light shine into large brown eyes with wrinkles at the edges. The white plastered ceiling is black with the darkness of an eight o'clock bedtime. Beneath a buffalo plaid comforter and on top of Toy Story sheets, a tiny six year old body lies cradled in loving arms. Their soft blonde hair pressed against a chin, their head resting on chest, heartbeats matching each others, and breaths wrapping each in an invisible cover of safety. The stars match the ones from thirty years ago but the dreams have changed. Travels through grocery store aisles and to playgrounds took the place of Europe. Spaghettios have been replaced with homemade macaroni and cheese and Land O Lakes gets spread on fresh baked sourdough. The emancipation of eighteen began the obligation of college, the responsibility of supporting oneself, the expecation of adulthood over adventure. A marriage was mandated not much later, the excitement of exploration instead became the promise of procreation. Orchestration of bills to be paid, mortgages to be made, all other hopes and dreams had to fade. 

Yet here they are, the stars and the love. Glowing with the promise of this new life, their dreams still to be realized, as they sleep each night and when they no longer close their small blue eyes under this roof. The large brown eyes now see the blue eyed dreams, their blue eyed future, their blue eyed accomplishments, all they can do. The promises unkept to self will be kept to this child. Happy to be left behind so they can go forward. Willing to stay in the darkness so they can shine.