Some Thoughts on the Moon

I remember the moonlight brightening up my room when I was young, bathing my sheets in a crisp, white glow. The window a little bit open and my curtains rustling in the wind. The moon, so bright and big, seemed to be telling me secrets. Or looking back and seeing me too. I remember so many moments with the moon, in that childhood room.

Sometimes, if I lay awake long enough, the moon would start to go down and disappear, and make way for the sunrise. I would think about how long it would be for the day to be finished again, and for me to be back there, just me and the moon. With my thoughts, with the quiet, with the magical glow. I would start to miss the moon in those moments, to feel the inevitability of time passing. Time felt longer then (as it does when you're a child), and I wished it could stay up in the sky all the time.

Now that I'm an adult, of course things have sped up. The days seem shorter, life feels busier, my brain is fuller. The time between one moon and the next feels relatively quick now. But when I'm lying in bed, when I can see the moon out of my window, when it's just us...I feel a calm and slow nostalgia wash over me. All those other nights, a big collection in my head, come up to the surface.

Most of my realisations, my tears, my heartaches, my happy warm feelings, my questions...they have all been similar in one way, throughout the years. I am so grateful for nights with you, for knowing you'll return. For knowing it will be peaceful, and you will help me feel whole again.

Thank you, moon.