so the moon is a thing.
i know, of course it is, but think about it: it’s this glowing incandescent orb that we can see, that we write off as a tiny and mundane part of our every day lives, even though for most of us, it’s very nearly untouchable and thousands of miles away. there are a precious few people who have walked on the moon, only a small selection who have placed their indelible footprints on its surface while manifesting the careful training they’ve been partaking in for numerous years. there are people who have devoted their lives to the moon.
the moon is a thing, even as she sits there smiling coyly, knowing she’s about to let you remove her blouse. the moon is a thing when he says he doesn’t love you anymore, and still a thing when he says he was a fool and wants nothing more than a future with you. the moon is a thing when you have your first child and still a thing when the last of your brood graduates from high school. it’s a thing when you order a cobb salad and a thing when you skip dinner in favor of another cocktail with an old college roommate. the moon is a thing no matter what we do, no matter how many of us live or die or persevere: it sits there watching us, snickering slightly as it witnesses our great successes, our horrific missteps.
there are few things as dependable as the moon, and even fewer things remotely as beautiful. and this, on this saturday night, is what i believe love should be: a constant yet ever-changing presence, both untouchable and ever so familiar, simultaneously omnipresent and thousands upon thousands of miles away.