to the mountain and the moon

published in moonshine ink, a year ago today

One day I’ll be lonely and thinking about how that green-eyed girl slipped from my hands and I’ll just leave. I’ll know exactly where I am going, but I won’t tell anyone. Soups and coffee will fill the milk crate in the back of my mud ridden car, and as I drive north the odometer will finally click past a quarter million.

The past month of insomnia and confusion will dissipate and seem unimportant.

I’ll bring a flask of whiskey in hopes of sharing it with someone interesting. Maybe another wanderer like me, or a pretty girl who helps me forget about my pain or maybe, the moon.

That way I won’t have to explain my problems to anyone. The moon knows them already. She has watched me swim naked and dance and cry. She has seen me drink away my heartaches and has also seen me find peace. She has seen me look at someone with divine love in my eyes, and I have looked upon her with that same passion.

She is my ultimate partner, and with every cycle of waning and waxing, I fall deeper in love. Her brightness guides the way and her absence makes me appreciate her even more. That to me is true love.

She knows my secrets and has told me hers. Her dark side does not scare me… in fact it is essential to our relationship. It’s her hidden mountains and valleys that make her shine even brighter. You must trust her dark side. You must know that it is the quintessential root of her beauty. You must see her as she really, truly, totally is. Only then will you fall for her, and never let go.