i. There's a knock at your door. The time has come. The smile in your dream haunts you and your eyes hurt, but you say goodbye, hoping to remember her face this time. She says, come back soon and kisses you one last time. You give her a small smile back and leave the window sill.
ii. The moon has always been lonely. She says she isn't, but you know better. You want to hold her hand and tell her someday, maybe one day, but she knows better too. She wants to say, please stay, but that is something both of you never signed up for. You live in constants and the moon will never be anything but a distant companion in the sky.
iii. You become angry at her sometimes. You say things you don't mean; you say things you half mean. “You aren't as pretty as everyone thinks you are!" you scream, and it's true. It's not because of her craters, or her blinding rage when she can't pull the oceans apart, or the flicker in her eyes when you say you need to go. She becomes the worst version of herself when she is with you (and yet you need to share her with each one of her lovers.)
iv. Sometimes she talks about the good things. She talks about the stars and how they keep her company, even though she will never be like them. “They understand,” she says, "What it feels like to be loved." And despite yourself, you smile. She deserves to know she is loved, and you tell her just that. She says that humans are so predictable, and you try not to let it hurt your pride. How, you ask, but it's more of a statement because you already know. She looks at you with her eyes bright and the stars behind her.
v. Sometimes she tells you of her envy. It comes when you are kissing her on her neck, and it just spills out of her, how she hates it when humans do that.
“Do what?" You ask, pulling away.
“Mark me." You know about her craters. “And then not let me do the same."
You know about the craters, but she tells you about how the moon has always wished to be a star, to be more than just stolen light, to get away from everything that binds her. You know about the tides, but she tells you how the moon sometimes wishes she could ruin the earth, ruin each one of her lovers that have left her and will leave her alone in the sky. “I hate everyone that loves me, sometimes,” She looks at you, wanting to pick her apart, "Is that so wrong?"
"No," You say, holding her sobbing body in your arms, “You deserve someone who will stay."
My affair with the moon
Author
Cerene
The Abandoned Woman, Female
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