An open letter to: Moon

An open letter to my first love,

You were my first brush of beauty. I could explain how your shadows contested your luminant cheeks. Royalty bowed down to you. Your elegance, your grace, cream-coloured paper in a labourer’s hands. They couldn’t stop gushing about how they liked you despite your flaws but I, I loved you.

I love you beyond and because of your flaws.

This cold lump of rock emanates the most warmth I’ve ever seen.

You taught me the difference between “secret” and “private”. My love, my admiration was no secret but our story blossomed in private behind the magical river beneath the leafy treetops snuck in between my mountains of work. It was obsessive, the piano notes reminded me of you, the water kissing the shore exemplified you.

This whole letter is so feeble.

I don’t know how to explain that evening in the garden, every inch of my skin felt like it was sown with parts of you that have become you because of your radiance. That my breath still hikes when I see you no matter how you look at the time, when someone captures you on camera my body seethes with jealousy. You’re mine and I wish I could take that perfect picture to show you what you look like. Ethereal. But you know that already don’t you?

Were you my stalker or was I yours? Right, left, u-turn, any and every turn the car took you followed us through. At the same, I wouldn’t sleep at night without staring at your home, trying to find you between the canopy of stars… all this on clear days of course.

Remember the other day, it was raining tears and raindrops blurring my vision, the sky was cloudy, you were nowhere to be seen and yet you somehow wiped off the water running down my face. A slight smile as I listened to the pitter-patter of the rain, widening when the breeze swayed my hair, I was so foolish I glossed over your wiping and credited the rain for being able to feel joy. I have learnt from my mistakes, and if it’s not too late I'd like to thank you. Thank you for all the times you listened to me vent, cry, rage, despair. But I’d also like to thank you for all the times I laughed, chuckled, meditated and hoped. Because it’s easy to be there for someone in their bad times, there’s this sort of unexpected relief that at least we are doing better than them.

Sympathy comes easier than support.

I’d write more but I have to go.

Goodnight

Ton amour

-P