My falling star

In fairy tales, everything seems simple.

They begin with "Once upon a time"
and end with "They lived happily ever after."

But the story I am about to tell you is nothing like a fairy tale.
It is reality-the kind that shakes you, that sometimes unsettles you.
The kind made of highs and lows, of deep valleys and brief clearings.
The kind where you often understand too late that what truly matters
is not the beginning, nor the ending,
but everything in between.

This story is about a shooting star.

About the kind you don't see coming.
The kind that crosses your sky too quickly.
The kind you barely have time to look at
before it has already vanished.

And yet, that is precisely what makes it beautiful.

The fact that it is fleeting.
The fact that it doesn't last.
That is what makes it unique.
That is what makes it beautiful.

And even when it disappears,
its light continues to shine.

Always.

To you, my shooting star.