The boy who fell in love with the moon

It was the story of a young boy, who fell in love with the moon. Every night, he would sit on the rooftop and play the flute that would send his feelings within the melodies twirling towards the sky. He fell in love with it. With its captivating beauty and elegance. At each glance, he would feel and hear the stories veiled beneath the moon’s surface. Stories that were told by the moon’s silent voice, which roared a path to the core of life. And he would feel its voice soothing the blood running in the veins beside his heart and echo a melody to describe his love. It was the melody that could end a baby’s cry at night, or help a poet catch the poem he was awaiting to write. He would play the flute until his fingers are crippled and the moon is sneaked under the sky’s blanket. It would break him. And desolate him. But he would still wait every day for the moon’s reappearance and play her the melodies that ripple millions of stars to the sky. He was so full of it. Full of love and attachment for this white rose in the sky, which was hung by an invisible stem. Yet he could never reach it, never even let his fingertips release its tenderness across the moon’s skin. Or let his footsteps create an enchanting garden as he walks over it to explore its beauty and grace. He was too far from it. And as he plays the flute, his eyes would envision a bridge that would enable him cross over the skies and reach the home of his heart.

Though, as the days rolled by, something shattered the boy’s heart with thunder. The moon was disappearing. It was hiding deeper, and deeper, beneath the sky’s blanket. He did not know why, or what he had done. But it sank him. Perhaps I was annoying, he thought. Perhaps it was my music, the melodies I play with my old, broken flute. And the thoughts began to punch the walls of his heart, his mind, and eyes. He would squeeze his emotions together in a ball as he sits and weep against the wall. Nothing mattered anymore. As if the entire universe had crushed down under his feet, and there was nothing that could bring back the light into his eyes. It was dark, really dark. And his tears fell down like knives, tearing down his soft skin. However, many missed his exquisite tunes. He would hear their conversations echoed within the air, their knocks on his door to check whether he’s still there. But he ignored it all. They don’t understand, he said. They will never get it. For the first time ever, he preferred loneliness. Even though it did no good for him, but that’s exactly why he preferred it. Somehow, you get addicted to the pain. You fall into it. As if you were thrown into a desert, with nothing to eat or drink. Yet at the same time, you felt peace within the desert’s silence and emptiness. It made no sense to him, but it didn’t matter.

 

At dawn, a young girl sneaked inside his room through his open window, with pigtails and shabby clothes. Her appearance caused a sandstorm in his desert, and it infuriated him. Though, he couldn’t exactly yell at her. She seemed too innocent, he thought. The sandstorm should be over soon.

“Would you accept this flower from me? I have missed the beautiful tunes you played at night. Please, play again.” She reached to him, with her muddy hands and scruffy appearance. Though, something pulled him towards her. It was her eyes, those crystalline light blue eyes. Their beauty, he thought, reminded him of the moon. And then he was suddenly weakened by the thought of it. The moon, he remembered. Its beauty, its captivating beauty. Its stories, heartwarming stories. The nights he spent. The tunes he played. But then he broke down, as he remembered the last event. When he was abandoned, and all the delight was gulped out of him.

“I really loved the music you used to play, what made you feel so down? ” She asked, while extending out her arm for the flower to be taken.

He grabbed the flower by his hands, with his head ducked down to prevent him from meeting her eyes. 

“Thank you. But there won’t be another time for music played at night. I’ve lost the desire to do so,” he took a deep breath and quietly slipped the words out of his mouth, “I’m sorry.”

“What? No, no you don’t understand. Your music helped me; I’ve been through dark times, and your music, your beautiful melodies, brought me light.” She suddenly broke down beside him, and it was impossible for his eyes to keep her out of sight.

“You know, the only reason why I played this music was because I thought I found my own light, but it left me. Left the arms of darkness to hug me. And now, I only have the misery echoing me a melody of sadness, instead of love. “

She looked at him with a half smile. It was as if she knew what he was talking about, and his eyes were mirroring the misery she had felt before. Not just that, but they tossed memories at her ribcage, making her experience the agony a person with tired and aching lungs would feel. She was suddenly weakened, and began to hesitate every time their eyes made contact.

“What happened? What was your light? Whatever it was, don’t let the darkness fool you. Your music was lovely. Really lovely.”

“If I ever told you, you would spring into laughter. No need.”

“It saddens me to hear that you think of me this way. I would never laugh; I’ve always preferred to talk to people with a good story to tell, people with deeper minds and hearts. They interest me more, you know. They make me feel less lonely, or I suppose- less insecure about my own thoughts and emotions.”

He looked at her, again. She seemed quite odd to him. There was nothing about her appearance that could really pull anyone, in fact-she looked quite bland. But somehow, he was pulled. It was most probably her eyes, these crystalline blue eyes. Though, it was not the first time he had seen blue eyes like hers before. It was more than that, it was something born inside her. It reminded him of his affection for the moon. They looked quite similar, but he did know why or how. Maybe it was his mind playing him again, and his thoughts of the moon were overflowing his brain. Yet, it seemed real to him. There were definitely similarities, but he still never knew why, or how.

“It started off with me, being the usual dreamer, falling in love with the moon…”

“Are you making this up? I dislike boys who do that, you know. You don’t have to get my attention this way, although, I would be lying if I said I didn’t like a dreamer, they make me feel less lonely too.”

“No, no. It was real. I would never make this up. I think it would be quite odd if a guy had ever tried to do that, it’s the first sign of a lunatic.” 

“We shall see.”

“You mentioned you liked people with deeper minds, haven’t you? Well, here’s my story…it’s the only reason why I’ve decided to share it with you.”

She studied his words, but they all came out pure and clear. Maybe he’s not joking after all, she thought. Maybe his mirroring eyes would reflect a story, which would make her feel less lonely.

“Alright, go on.”

“I don’t know how you could put it into words. I don’t think you ever can. It was something out of the ordinary, out of the blue. And I never really knew why it happened. Everyone loves the moon, and recognizes its beauty. But, it was different for me. I longed for it, longed for its beauty and light. It made me feel happier, as if it spoke to me words of wisdom after I send my messages to it, which carried sadness and confusion. I felt hope. I felt peace. It’s not just something that lights the dark sky; it’s more than that. It lights your heart, your mind and spirit. And it baffled me, at times; how a bright ball floating in the sky could do such things. But it did, and I felt it speak to me with its silent voice. And I never knew how, but it was extraordinary. As if it was hiding something behind it, something spectacular, which can speak with a silent voice and stroke your heart with invisible hands. But that thing, that something behind it, I could never reach it. It just hides behind the moon’s light, behind the sun and behind all galaxies and stars. It’s not a planet; it’s not any of the creations in the sky.  They just stand there, showing off their beauty into our eyes. Though, when you look through them, you feel something else, see something else. It’s not the moon I’m looking at anymore; it’s something indiscernible. It’s as if these creations are like the masks to hide the enchanter behind them. Or even inside them, but it’s somewhere there. And when you speak to it, when you melt all your emotions to it, you feel it speaking back to you. You would hear stories, though they never enter through your ears, but through your heart. And they never made sense to me, I never understood any of them, or remember any. Yet somehow, they get buried inside you. And you would feel them climbing your bones and reaching your eyes, gluing them towards the direction of the moon. I loved it. I loved the moon’s ability in doing all that. Whether it was the moon, or something else, but through the moon’s beauty; I felt happiness. I felt peace. I was drawn into the core of life. And in that moment, I would hear the melodies whistling through me. I wanted to show something, pour out the emotions I was feeling inside, and music was there to help me. Yet, after all that…I’m now broken. I was stupid in the first place anyway, to believe that such beauty and spiritual feeling really exists. It’s just a white rose in the sky, just a beautiful, white rose. And it fooled me.”

She watched him burst into tears. The tears that swallowed his face and spat out another one, which looked darker and sadder than ever. His mirror eyes were not just something out of her imagination, but it was real. They reflected her story, her emotions and the thoughts she had felt before.

“It was disappearing in the sky. I saw it. It was hiding away from me. I couldn’t see it’s full beauty no more; it abandoned me. As if I was slicing off it’s beauty, each day it appeared thinner than before. But I did no wrong; all I ever did was love it. That’s all I ever did.” His words would slide off his quivering lips and smash towards the ground, creating some kind of thunder, a quake. Although it was only one person listening to him, it somehow felt like the entire world was noticing his pain. His cry was too powerful, and the tears came out of his eyes like bats escaping from their cave. The young girl began to smile, as she had never seen such emotion, delicacy and warmth through one’s eyes before. It confused her for a while; because she did not expect his mirroring eyes would reflect such beauty. She never knew she had beauty, never even thought of it. Perhaps the moon passed on to him its own beauty, she thought. Though, it was quite surreal to believe, and she shook her head off to get back into reality.

“I don’t think I would ever meet anyone as deeper and crazier as you are. And I think it’s beautiful that you have such little knowledge about the world you live in. In fact, the moon is not disappearing. It never will. It’s not hiding away from you, it’s still floating in the sky. It just fails to be complete and full at all times, its one of nature’s laws, you know. My dad told me about it, he told me many things before,” she paused for a while, as the memories began to swim down her throat, “sadly, he’s not the same anymore. I used to love him though, really love him.”

“What?” he rubbed off the tears away, and his face was shaped into another form. No darkness, no sadness, but just pure astonishment.

“Wait, So- the moon, did not really hide away from me?” he asked, trying to digest her words inside him.

“Nope. It just changes, like one day it would be full and at other times it would be half. And so on. It just changes, like everything in nature does, I think. The weather changes, the clouds change, everything changes when you think about it. It’s like a pattern.” She sighed.

A new, joyful spirit entered through the young boy’s heart. He looked at her, without the fear of meeting her eyes, which resembled the moon’s beauty.

“That’s very true. And even though my knowledge about this world may be little, but I’ve heard that people change too. You know, not just through appearances or age, but just themselves. I don’t think it’s temporary though, is it? Like what you said about the moon, it becomes full again �" right?” 

Her eyes began to shoot question marks in the atmosphere, and some exclamations too. The tragic memories of her dad were spilled down her spine, and it all started to make sense for her. He might have changed, might have become less loveable than before, but just like the moon �" he will become full again. We will always assume, just like the young boy, that the moon is abandoning us. We would be drowned into the idea that they will forever be full and complete, they will always remain the same way we’ve fallen in love with them. But that’s not how it goes. We would start to break down and give up on them, just like the boy who is not aware of the moon’s pattern in the sky. Perhaps, the moon’s pattern is related to the pattern of love. It will not stay forever beautiful and complete, but will get thinner and smaller as time goes by.  Though, that doesn’t mean we should lose hold of it, lose our love and devotion for one another. One day, it will become full again, like how it began. It might take time, a long time, but that’s how nature goes. We all change, and we all follow the pattern of change. It wasn’t the moon’s fault. Yet, we will always be like the young boy, not aware of nature’s laws, and lose the affection for our beloved. Similarly to our relationship with God, it will follow the same pattern, yet some will fail to wait for the next full moon. He will provide us with days full of happiness and hope, faith and serenity. But when the storm arises, and the waves of struggle and anger begin to flow inside you, nothing would make sense anymore. You feel lost, confused and bitter. And the only question, which the waves are flooding your head with �" is why.  Some find the answer, and some take more time. But it will never be easy, and others could simply give up- just like when the young boy lost his affection for the moon on the first turn. Though, that’s the beauty of it. Like the artist who would still choose to paint, even though his brushes are torn. Or like the poor farmer, during the winter season, waiting for his crops to grow. The beauty of not seeking light from the sun, but from your soul. The clouds can hide the sun’s light any day, just like how pain can hide our faith away. Though, it’s never hidden. The sun is still there, still shining as bright as ever, waiting for the correct time to arise. At the time when the city is yearning for it’s warmth and light. And when it finally arises, it somehow shines brighter. As if all the dark clouds and rainy storms have made the city forget the sun’s light, and how vibrant it is. It would light the skies and change frowns into smiles. It would rescue a flower from dying and a house from flooding. Only then, do people finally notice the sun’s value and importance. As darkness is not a sign of downfall, but the path to a brighter sun.  And that’s the beauty of it. The beauty of strengthening your love as the days go by, whether it’s during a dark storm or a day full of light. That’s love, and that’s the pattern of it. In the end, it’s up to the person �" whether they could follow the pattern or not. And those who don’t; will miss out the thrill of seeing the brighter sun after a dark storm, and the full moon after a cracked one. Instead, they would run to find a different kind of pattern, a pattern that’s undamaged and complete. Though, they would never find it. As this pattern only exists in a reality we don’t know about, a life we have not yet met. It exists only in God’s world, as he is the only one that could love a person through an unbreakable pattern. He is the most mercy, the most kind.

She piled up her thoughts neatly inside her mind, and smiled softly to the young boy.

“Yeah, you’re right. A moon must not be full for you to love it, and love must not be intact for you to want it.”

Once again, the beauty of her thoughts pulled him. Though, he’s still yet to discover the secret of her eyes, on why they remind him so much of the moon. It’s not the colour, or the design. It’s something behind it, something within. Just like how he looked into the moon, and he would feel the presence of an enchanter behind it. The melodies began to echo inside him, and he finally felt the delight of seeing another full moon.

“May I play you some of my music? I have just noticed a beauty, which echoed me a melody of love.”

She spurted sparks of joy from her smile, and his melodies began to move the wings of the butterflies in her heart.