I hold my pen straight. I don’t know where to start. The page in front of me is still blank. For minutes. Hours maybe… Or days? I don’t know.
They say you will live forever if a writer falls in love with you. But one thing they don’t know is that I’d only write about them if they’d break my heart. Because that’s how I put the pieces back together. Little do they know I have stopped loving a long time ago.
I’ve fallen in and out of love countless times, but I only ever truly loved once.
“I love you to the moon and back.”
That’s what I told her. I know because I went there..
I know because I shot myself out there for her. They told me there was magic dust that would make me all better.
384,400 km away from earth, where nothing has ever been so quiet.
There is no day or night, but I could see the sun from where I stand.
Yes, I went to the moon and I figured it out. All of it. I have got all fixed and healed.
The world is just a tiny beautiful blue dot from all way up there. So beautiful, so silent.
In the silence, I relived my memory of her. Wondering if she missed me. If she thought about me too. If we looked at the same horizon.
I love you to the moon and back. The exact same words I repeat in this empty space.
And I came all the way back here with moon dust on my boots and whole my heart to give.
I came all the way back, all the way whole, and she said she missed me but she didn’t think I’d be that long. I could see the marks on her hand from someone else holding it. The deep etching of happiness and warmth.
I told you I loved you to the moon and back, and that’s what I answered when you asked me what took so long.