She told me to wish on a star because it will make your wish come true. Somewhere between stardust and sunbeams when dreams feel so real you can smell the rain in the air, I almost believe. Then the sleep falls from my eyes and I’m hit with the starkness of reality.
She said that grown-ups can’t be happy because they’ve forgotten how to dream. In the fervor of her argument when her tiny hands fly up in exasperation and conviction invades every word, I want to believe. Then it’s time to come in from the chill and I’m hit with the emptiness of silence.
She gave up on the little lost boy in the green hat when she turned seven. When I watch her scan the twinkling horizon for a hint of fairy dust in hopes that some dreams are worth holding on to, I begin to believe. Then her head drops along with those beautiful blue eyes and I’m hit by tiny fragments of shattered hope.
She’ll tell you the greatest gift I ever gave her was that of life. Between the smiles and tears, hopes and fears, lost dreams and found things when I’m sure all strength is gone, I do believe.
I believe in her…and that is enough to make me believe in love again.