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I have always believed in making wishes, even when they never came true.

I’ve whispered them into the void, breathed them into the wind, sent them floating into the universe on the fragile wings of hope. It never mattered how small or improbable—if there was even the slightest chance, I wished for it.

I wished on shooting stars, though I knew they were just burning fragments of rock slicing through the sky. I plucked fallen eyelashes from my cheek and blew them away like tiny prayers. I pocketed pennies found heads-up on the sidewalk, believing in the promise of good fortune. When the clock struck 11:11, I closed my eyes and sent silent pleas into the ether.

I never truly believed they worked. Not in the way fairytales and bedtime stories promised. But that never stopped me. Wishing, wanting, hoping—it’s addictive. Even when logic tells me it’s foolish, my heart refuses to let go of the possibility.

Maybe this time. Maybe just once.

Because deep down, I know I deserve better.

I love myself enough to know that I do. I have spent years growing into the person I am today—fighting for my peace, unlearning toxic patterns, setting boundaries that once terrified me. I have chosen myself, time and time again, even when it was the loneliest, hardest thing to do.

And yet, for all the wishes I’ve made and all the steps I’ve taken, luck has never seemed to be on my side. I step over cracks in the pavement, avoid walking under ladders, toss salt over my shoulder when it spills—simple superstitions woven into my habits, as if they could shield me from misfortune.

Still, no matter how careful I’ve been, my heart has known its share of breaking. No matter how many precautions I’ve taken, disappointment has found me.

But still—still—I look up at the night sky and hold my breath when a star streaks across the darkness. Even though I tell myself it’s just science, just coincidence, just a momentary trick of the cosmos, my heart asks a quiet question:

What if…?

What if something out there is listening?

What if, despite everything, the universe does take requests?

What if all those wishes weren’t just words disappearing into nothingness, but seeds waiting for the right time to bloom?

I didn’t believe in shooting stars. Not really.

Until I did.

Until one impossible, unexpected moment unfolded right in front of me, as if the universe had finally whispered back, Here. This one’s for you.

And suddenly, I wanted to believe. My god, I wanted to.

Because that wish—that one—came true.

Maybe it was fate.

Maybe it was timing.

Maybe it was just the law of averages finally tipping in my favor.

Or maybe—just maybe—it was something more.

But wishes are fickle things, aren’t they?

A single moment of magic doesn’t guarantee forever. A wish granted today doesn’t promise immunity from heartache tomorrow.

So here I am, standing beneath the same sky, heart in my throat, searching for another falling star. Another chance. Another hope.

This time, my wish is different.

This time, I wish for protection. For a safeguard against another heartbreak. For the courage to trust without fear. For the wisdom to know when to hold on and when to walk away. For the strength to believe in something greater than luck.

I don’t know if it will work.

But I’ll keep wishing anyway.

🫰❣️🫖 JRT

🎨 Art Credit: Raven Shaolin Bluefeather