I was supposed to be an astronaut

Dear Delyara, As a child, I memorised mission names, built cardboard control panels, and told anyone who asked that I would become an astronaut. I studied aerospace engineering and reached the final stage of a competitive training programme. Then my mother became ill. I withdrew to care for her, intending to reapply the following year. She lived for nine more years. By the time she died, I was older than the programme’s preferred candidates and working in procurement for an aviation company. I am grateful I cared for her. I also resent the life illness selected for me. Today, a woman from my university class was announced as part of a space mission. Reporters described her childhood dream, and every detail sounded like my own biography continuing in another body. I sent her a congratulatory message. She replied that she had always expected to see my name on the list. I closed the email and sat in my car until the office car park emptied. Lost ambition is not simply wanting a different job. It is watching the sky remain exactly where you left it while your life becomes increasingly skilled at looking down.