The Sun That Lost Its Planets

At some point, I was the sun, and they were the planets that revolved around me. They even thought about what they would do if I wasn’t there in their lives. I was the center of their universe, or at least, that’s what it felt like.

There was a time when we were inseparable. The kind of bond that felt unshakable, as if nothing in this world could create a distance between us. We fought, we laughed, we shared moments that felt like they would last forever. In a room full of people, we were each other’s constants.

There was one person who had been a part of my life since forever, someone who just got me without needing words. We grew up together, knowing each other's habits, finishing each other's sentences, finding comfort in the simplest things. It wasn’t perfect—we had our fights, our moments of stubbornness, but deep down, we knew we were always there for each other. And then life took us in different directions. Distance became real, and calls became rare. The connection that once felt effortless now needed effort. And with time, even that effort started fading. Now, when we talk, it’s warm and familiar, but there’s a lingering ache of how things used to be.

Then, there was another bond, one that felt even deeper. A connection that made me feel seen, understood, important. I cared, maybe too much. I made sure they were okay, looked out for them, even put them before myself. But one day, I found myself on the other side of a closed door. The same concern I had shown, the same care I had given, wasn’t there when I needed it the most. Instead, rules and formalities were placed above the bond we had built. And just like that, another piece of my heart faded into the past.

And then there was someone who became my safe space. The kind of person who made me feel like I belonged, even when the world felt distant. But even that connection started to shift. Maybe I held on too tightly. Maybe they just outgrew me. Or maybe I was never meant to be someone people stayed with.

One by one, the people I held close found new stars to revolve around, while I was left behind, still shining in a space they no longer looked at.

At some point, I started wondering—was it me? Was I too much? Too caring? Too attached? Too naive to believe that people stay? I’ve watched so many walk away, watched them replace me, watched them move forward while I remained stuck, unable to let go of what once was.

I don’t have the answers yet. Maybe someday, I’ll learn to move forward too. Maybe I’ll find new stars, or maybe I’ll finally understand that the brightest stars don’t fade just because someone stops looking at them. They still shine, even in solitude.