The Sun Who Envied The Moon

Do you ever wish you were like someone else? Wish you had that dream life, that dream car, that loving family? I wish I was like the moon, she sees the real side of people, when humans are at their most vulnerable they turn to the moon like an old friend. People only talk to me when they’re “happy” but usually they are just faking it.

Sometimes I watch them smile, sometimes I watch them laugh but never watch them open up to me. They look at me like im a spotlight they have to perform under, while they look at her like she’s the only one who understands. I rise every morning after a long sleep, secretly longing for a deep conversation. Longing for a secret to hold tight, for a promise to keep but it never comes.

I sit and wonder if anyone ever looked my way when they’re feeling down, for a place to rest their tired thoughts. I burn for it everyday, they whisper they’re heartbreaks, confessions, the parts of themselves too dark even for the night. Maybe that’s what hurts the most, that I'd turn away from the very thing I’ve been aching to hear.

Do you ever wish you were like someone else? Wish you had that dream life, that dream car, that loving family? I wish I was like the sun. I envy how she’s always in the sunlight, and brightens humans day. I wish I could make people smile and hear their happy thoughts, usually all I get is the sad thoughts, which I will always listen to. Sometimes I wish for a change. Sometimes I wish to have a light as bright as the sun and not bring darkness down every night.

And maybe one day when the sky is quiet and the stars shine in the sky, we’ll finally hear each other

Maybe the Moon will tell me she’s tired of bearing the world’s sadness alone, that the weight of whispered heartbreak keeps her up at night. Maybe she will tell me how she wishes she could share the pain with someone else.

And I'll tell her, I'm tired of being the place where people pretend to be okay, tired of shining so brightly that people think I can’t handle their darkness.

Maybe one day we’ll admit that we spent lifetimes of envying for the very things that make us who we are

Maybe the moon will realize I've always wanted to glow softly like she does and i’ll realize she’s always wanted to be happy like me.

No one understands the truth, not even the sun and the moon. No one gets everything, no one is loved the same way, everyone is unique. But even the sky has room for two different kinds of light. So maybe that's why we rise and fall, to learn we were never meant to shine the same