Once upon a time, there was a star. Small and unassuming yet bright and warm, it wandered the universe on its own, enchanted: she could always find the beauty in everything she saw, whether it was a nebula, another star, a black hole...everything had something special about them, and she was always mesmerised by what surrounded her.
What she loved the most, however, was planets: she loved to observe them orbit her fellow stars, and loved even more to witness the miracle of life being born on some of them.
She could have spent eternity just looking at them, orbiting, ageing, thriving. And she longed. Oh, how she longed.
She loved planets so much, she would have given anything to have one.
And deep down, she wondered why she couldn’t have a planet herself. Maybe she was too small, or maybe not warm enough. Maybe she just wasn’t meant to have a planet. Maybe she didn’t deserve one.
Yet she couldn’t help but wish for that companionship, that knowledge that she wouldn’t have to spend eternity wandering the universe alone. And she hoped that maybe, just maybe, she could be part of the miracle of life. Help create something for once, rather than just be a creation.
And so on and on she went, observing, longing, until one day she decided she couldn’t anymore. She had often come across planets while wandering, rogues just like her who didn’t really belong anywhere and roamed the universe on their own, but she had never dared get closer. What was the point anyway? Her gravitational pull wasn’t strong enough for any planet to get closer.
But one day, tired of being lonely, she tried approaching a small, solitary rogue planet. And somehow, it began to move towards her. The star couldn’t believe it. What was happening? This wasn’t possible. Yet there it was, making its way towards her and…orbiting? A sense of joy one could not even describe washed over the star, she was so happy…so happy, she flared. A strong gust of fire burst from her, strong enough to reach the planet, and somehow push it away.
She had always known she was a flare star, one of the few that could sometimes have drastic increases in brightness and power without warning, but this time it hit her more than ever. For once, she had managed to pull a planet towards her, and it was already gone.
Frustrated and yet again alone, the star resumed her journey. This time, however, she couldn’t help but see rogue planets differently, wonder if maybe…maybe this one could join her? And then one day, she gathered all her courage and tried again. And again. And again and again. It took a while before another planet moved towards her again, but finally, one small, gaseous planet came closer. It came closer, and…drifted away. Just like the next one. And the one after that one. And the one after that as well. And if they didn’t, they got hit by one of her flares. It was heartbreaking. Attempt after attempt, she always, inevitably, seemed to fail.
However, the star simply couldn’t stop searching, so on she went, trying and failing and failing again until she found a lone terrestrial planet in a remote corner of the universe. This time, it didn’t float away. This time, it stayed.
And for the first time, the star wasn’t alone anymore. The planet orbited around her, slow and steady, without fail. With time, her warmth began to pervade it, and without even realising it, soon enough life began to blossom on it. And it was beautiful. The star couldn’t help but look at it with love, proud of that planet and how it had managed to flourish with just a bit of warmth. It had very likely been wandering just like her, without a star, without life, lost…and now with a gentle push, there it was. Thriving. That was what she had always wanted. To make good use of her light, bring some warmth into the coldness of the universe. To help a planet feel less lonely. Maybe, to help create life.
But then the planet began to get closer. It came closer and closer, dangerously close…and the star could do nothing. She observed in pain as the life she had nurtured began to die, her warmth now too strong for it to survive, the planet relentlessly inching closer. She tried in any way to avoid it, but nothing worked. And then her planet hit her. It crashed into pieces right before her, blazing debris shooting into space, all of the life gone, and her companion as well. The only thing she was left with was a scar on her surface right where the planet hit.
After that, she wandered alone for a long while, too scared of repeating the same experience. However, loneliness soon began to take a hold of her again, and she found herself looking at planets surrounding her with longing and…hope? While roaming a darker area of the universe, she found a beautiful terrestrial body hidden away from other stars, and carefully approached it, drawn by its mystery. Getting closer, she noticed how some of its surface was scarred, just like hers, and wondered what it had collided with, and how long ago. In her fascination, she didn’t realise she was moving closer and closer, so close that the planet suddenly inched towards her, too.
Soon enough, the star had a new planet orbiting her. A beautiful, scarred planet, drawn to her without any control over it. Intrigued by it and secretly overjoyed, the star decided to stop wandering and enjoy the company of her newfound friend, who slowly began to blossom in her warmth, and oh, how gorgeous it became. Where once there were scars, now there was life, and it was almost overwhelming to witness. But as time went by, the star began to grow, her size growing with her. And when the planet began to inch closer, it didn’t take long for it to follow its predecessor. Once again scarred and alone, the star resumed her roaming. She met other planets and hoped, every single time, that maybe they could stay. That maybe she would stop wandering alone. Yet, every single time, the planet either drifted away or, even worse, got too close. The star began to believe she was destined to be alone. Clearly, her gravitational pull was not meant to work with any planet, either it was too weak or too strong, but never right. So she began to steer away from planets. Not because she was worried they wouldn’t stay, but because she couldn’t bear the thought of destroying yet another beautiful celestial body. She was a danger, she shouldn’t let any other celestial body close. Wherever she went, she brought destruction. Either she made planets steer away from their path and likely get lost or crash, or she destroyed them completely. She had to stay the furthest she could.
And so she spent billions of years on her own, motionless in a remote area of the universe, just waiting for her life cycle to end. Not noticing the galaxy that was slowly inching closer. It was only when she began to feel something odd that she realised she wasn’t as hidden away as she thought. Somehow, she began to feel a pull from inside, pointing her towards something…something…what was she being pulled towards?
And then she saw it. A bright, larger star had somehow come close enough to call her. Without even realising, she began to orbit the other star, and oh, how lovely her warmth was. She had always been the one to bring warmth to others, always tried to give and shine so she could help bring light in the darkness and life in death, but she had never been the one enjoying the warmth herself. And it was wonderful. She wasn’t alone, however: other planets were orbiting that star, just like her. Some of them even had some signs of life. All of them, however, slowly adjusted to her presence, and began to orbit them both. And they didn’t drift away. And they didn’t fall into her. They just orbited, just like she did. She didn’t drift away, either, nor crash. The other star pulled her just enough to stay at a safe distance, exchanging heat, bringing life.
Finally, the star had found a place, a sense of peace and belonging. She fell in love with the centre of her orbit, fell in love with her planets, with her galaxy. Fell even more in love with the universe. And she shone, bright and proud, until the very end.
-C