Sunday, November 22, 2009

New Moon, No Moon

I woke up last night from a beautiful dream. At first, I didn’t know what was it so I stood up and left my chilling pillow under the sheet and prepared a cup of hot milk to help me think. Instantly, after I had a sip, I realized that the moon was present in my dream. So that may be the reason why I termed it beautiful. After another warm sip, I realized that the very reason why it was beautiful is also the reason why it was just a dream. It was fully there … that’s it.

I hurried to bed as the realization came crashing over me. It was way too much for a night, way too much to allow me sleep again. So before it was too late, I lie down again, erasing all traces of hurt and expectations, thinking nothing but to be able to sleep again and not suffer a night under the waves of emotions, to dream again, to just forget everything. I should have known that I am good at it. Not at all.

As the moon reaches its shiniest, I stared at it with such painful realizations. It has always been my dream while I sleep and even when I am awake. I always wanted to fly up there and live in there, pulled by its gravity just like the tides of the earth, though it’s too much to imagine and too much to wish. The moon has always been far from my reach, just right for my stare. It has always been high up there with the millions of stars illuminating the dark sky. It has always been there allowing me to see through the night. The moon has always been beautiful and magnificent in all of its ways, standing-out and amazing. I follow its gravity more than how I do with that of the earth. However, once in my life, I watched the moon flew right in front of me. Indeed, it was a dream-come-true. Indeed, it was the happiest thing that ever happened to my life and I can still remember everything on that silent night when it came down. I thought that that was just easy. I thought that I can be with that moon as often as I want. I thought I can stare at it as long as I can but I am just under that same sky where everyone sees the same moon, and so I can’t call that moon as my own even though it flew down for me. Also, there were times when the moon is sometimes missing. Sometimes, it’s new moon and the sky is too dark that shadows are the only things that I can see. I’ll run and hide and try to fly, only to find out that there is no sign of the moon no matter how hard I try to search, only little stars which are randomly scattered to make an impression that there is still light. I’ll wait and pray and hope that the moon will soon shine and drive all my darkness away, then my prayer will be half-answered, because the moon will be half-there. Only half-there.

There was nothing special last night without that full moon. I wasn’t certain what to hope to feel that night, but I felt empty. I was empty of any hope and enthusiasm. I was empty of mirth and satisfaction. I was exactly opposite as my dream. I realized that I too, at times like this, is just half there, and the other half is staying on her dreams, playing on her fool’s paradise of make-believe.

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