Dear Moon,

Dear Moon,

I’m writing to you to clear up two important things.

They’ve been on my mind as you’ve been getting fuller and brighter over the past few days...

Firstly, I don’t care what anyone says anymore - I know that we are connected.

People say that your power over our emotions is just a myth.

But I know they’re wrong.

People only dismiss things as myths when they aren’t paying close enough attention anyway.

And my God, if they only knew what it was like for the forces of a full moon to combine with the forces of a woman about to ovulate,

then they would know it’s no myth.

If they could feel the way I feel right now,

they’d know that you send electricity through a woman’s veins.

One look at me and they’d see my eyes wide, pupils dilated, veins on my arms swollen like I’m about to start sprinting at 10pm, chest pulsing.

These bodily changes lining up with your fullness make me joke: I am a werewolf!

The pull toward you, I can feel it through my heart,

like an invisible string connected from my chest centre to the silver-golden orb straight ahead and above.

And by this connection, I know that tonight you call me.

On that note, and secondly - I know you’re calling out to me, but what for, dammit?

In your fullness I feel you whispering that something big is around the corner.

But why, Moon, do you always hold your cards so close to your chest?

You’re always both calling me and keeping secrets from me.

As you grow brighter and draw me into your shadow realm late at night,

you usually reveal these secrets to me.

Why does it always feel like I’m receiving a call,

and when I answer all I hear is silence on the other end?

You kill me with your mystery,

keeping me up at night like a child before Christmas,

the anticipation making me wait for answers to unfold.

Always in these slow, gradual increments -

don’t you know by now how desperately impatient I am?

Can’t you feel my irritation?

Maybe this letter only proves my impatience once more.

Maybe you’re showing me that I need to be more like you: gradual, slow, measured, and consistent.

Maybe you’re reminding me that what I desire always comes, but in phases.

I should be used to it by now - every cycle leads to this same bright-eyed impatience.

And every cycle you end up revealing the secret to me.

So okay, Moon, I will wait.

I think you’re right.

I will be patient this time.