Saturday, February 13, 2010

White Under The Moon

Ever since he kissed me under a full moon, I cannot look at the moon again without imagining that somewhere out there, wherever he is, whatever he is doing, whenever he looks at the moon he is thinking the same about me.

The memory of that night is all I have of John. One night under a clear sky with no clouds, just a bright and brilliant, perfect circle of light. One night, one kiss and a million stars in a sky so vast that even with my chest bursting I felt so small, so
insignificant. Somehow, it was too good to be true.

For just when I thought I had found love I had to lose John, though I had known from the very beginning that I could have neither-- neither love nor John.

It was beautiful while it lasted, though. But then again, was it all in my mind? An illusion of beauty, like the moon that think its glory is its own?

Maybe the kiss and the night meant nothing to him.
Maybe I exaggerate their importance. Maybe I suffer from moon madness. maybe I am mad.

A short fiction written eons ago. Happy Hearts Day everyone! Enjoy the day with your friends, lover and family!



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