Some people are firecrackers, others are stars

Firecrackers and stars. 

The former offer a dazzling, brilliant display of lights that captivate and capture and leave you breathless and feeling like you’ve been blessed to be in their presence — that you’ve been singled out specifically to be part of their magic. 

The latter shine simply, content to to be a constant, steady source of light. They are always present and, although they don’t dazzle with the same intensity as firecrackers, they don’t burn out. They aren’t for a moment but for a lifetime.

Some people are firecrackers. 

Some people are stars. 

I think we all have firecracker people in our lives. They are the people who come into our lives and dazzle us with their presence. They captivate us with their wit and charm. They make us feel special when they single us out for attention because we aren’t sure we are worthy of it. They draw us in, bring us close. They tell us all about themselves, show us what they want us to see only. We feel like there is so much depth to them, so many layers — how could there not be? But just like a firecracker when the show is over, all that’s left is emptiness. The lights, the colours dissipated into the air. We are left wanting more, wanting to be in the presence of that sparkle, that shine again. We aren’t prepared to find nothing left. We aren’t  prepared for our worlds to be a little more mundane, a little less exciting.

Once firecracker people have moved on from our circle, we shift and settle back into our lives, our routines. When we recall memories of them, we soften the parts where they made the experience all about them and focus on the fact that we got to be with them. Selective memories.

Sometimes firecracker people come back into our lives for reasons of their choosing. It’s almost always because they want something from us and we, happy to once again be part of their orbit, agree willingly, eagerly. 

A close friend of mine recounted a story of a firecracker from his past who, after years of no contact, came back into his world. Needing resume help and interview prep, he willingly agreed. After she got what she needed — the job — she disappeared again, severing the connection, moving on to bedazzle the next person in her world. 

I, myself, have a firecracker person that enters my world at will when it’s convenient for him, wanting things only for him. His portrayal to the people in his world is one of caring and concern. He’s fun to be with! A great guy! And he can be. But I got a little closer and discovered a little more. And so our association has pretty much ended, for the most part. But I recently got a message from him, about him. Asking me different questions. Nothing to do with me. And, like my friend, I replied. I offered my opinion. Not because I wanted to be in his sphere permanently again but because of the pull of the sparkle. 

Although neither my friend nor I regret our help, our replies, our experiences have again left us looking at the shells of those people, their presence again nothing but smoke wisps. 

Star people are often overlooked. Because they are a constant in our lives we sometimes take them for granted. We don’t feel the same strong pull towards them initially because, although they shine brightly, their light and energy aren't an awe-inspiring burst of radiance. We take comfort in knowing they will always be there, they won’t move on, they won’t disappear. 

They want nothing from us but acknowledgement and a moment of gratitude once in awhile for their presence. Sometimes we are in places where stars shine a little brighter — like the sky on a clear night in the Sahara — and we appreciate them more, recognize their importance more. We acknowledge the gift their presence is. It’s like that with the star people in our lives as well. People such as treasured family, friends, friends who are family. People like My Favourite Husband. Solid and steady. A man who had no airs or pretensions. Someone whose presence was constant without a show. The people closest to me in life are like that. I’m like that: solid, steady, dependable, reliable. Constant. A comforting, welcoming light. 

Would life be easier if it only had star people? Maybe. But it’s firecracker people who make us appreciate the star people even more.