A Love Letter to the Man on the Moon: #2 Imagined Reality

Not many people know you exist. It’s not surprising, as few have traveled to your lands and even fewer know about you. But I’ve had years to get to know you and have carefully studied your ways. And strangely, even though we first met so long ago, it has taken me a long time to figure you out, as you are not what you appear to be.

In the simplest terms, you are tall, brooding, and philosophical to the core. You are musical, romantic, and a true naturalist. You are one of the most altruistic, optimistic, and loyal people that I’ve ever met. You like the simple pleasures of life: the quiet, the tranquil, the solitary. I realize now that you are the country mouse.

The most challenging thing about you is that you are dedicated to those you love—sometimes to a fault. Your love runs deep and true. Whenever I need you, I can conjure you up and you are there in an instant, lending me a sympathetic ear. You hold me in your gentle embrace and speak soothing words that are a balm to the ache that would otherwise keep me up at night. For me, you are an unending column of watery love and acceptance that overflows. 

No one else in this galaxy makes me feel as seen and as special as you do.

You like to yell, “Carpe Diem,” but I know it's a ruse. The truth is that you are exhausted—exhausted from putting everything and everyone else first. You keep busy helping others and doing the right thing as a method of distraction because, secretly, you are unhappy. Your heart beats to the drum of “the best which is yet to come”. But just below the surface, I feel the pulse of your hurt, your regret, and your loneliness.

Did you know that when I’m most lonely, you are able to come to me in my sleep? We lie together in the grass, sand tickling between our toes. We are swaddled in purple, and when you look at me, everything stops. All my worries vanish, and all we have is that very moment. That peacefulness that pauses the world and silences my thoughts. 

You have a magical power that makes the world stops spinning.

You are a warm light. A beacon in the sky. A gentle caress. A loving smile. I can feel your touch and remember your kisses. 

How can this be when we are always worlds apart?

You say I am your rainbow, but rainbows are just beautiful optical illusions. When the dream state is over and we open our eyes, what will we see? 

I am not who you think I am, and you are merely a version of who I dream you could be.

The truth is, you’ve always buried yourself deep within. You are a house that’s all locked up. I have tried to break in. I even cut myself a key—but there is no use. You’ve tried to open the door to let me in, but that latch won’t release. I can’t get in because you are unable to escape the shackles of your mind. When you speak your truth from behind the door, the air from your planet leaves you breathless and mute. There are even moments when the green of your eyes turns molten and you become completely unreachable—a vacant statue held captive by your own inner darkness.

That is when I realize our connection is unstable. 

When I realize that our distant and improbable relationship is insurmountable—too much for me to handle. And yet I am drawn to you. There is some inexplicable force. I can’t let go. It’s like the pull of the ocean, a tide that sweeps me toward you no matter how hard I try to swim away from the swell of the waves. It is exhilarating and also unsafe. The tide turns me in different directions against my will; like a magnet, sometimes I’m drawn in, and sometimes I’m repelled.

But the truth is that there is no reality; there is only my perception. My dreamlike projection of our past, present, and future. 

My imagined reality of who you are and what I’ve always envisioned we could be.

If only you were real.

A Love Letter to the Man on the Moon: Letter #1 Ache and Distance

In the depths of my mind I harbor a hidden truth; a love for the man on the moon. This secret romance was born of innocent flirtation and turned into a lifelong romance of imagined conversations and invisible interactions. A romance of ache and distance. Of blues and greens, of raging seas, endless longings and what ifs.

I know.

It’s too bizarre.

Too unlikely.

Too distant to be real.

But if I’m being honest (which I haven’t always been able to do—not to myself and certainly not to others) I’ve kept this love buried deep inside. Not acknowledging it or understanding it fully.

All these years later I recognize that this romance is based on something absolutely real and yet is conjured on the repeating idea of what might have been. It is complicated by distance—living on two different planets tends to make being together impossible. I know that speaking two different languages complicates things too; after all, too much gets lost in translation. Although we are far apart, we are always connected by the light of the moon.

We live our own separate lives, making space in the gaps and silences. He haunts my dreams. I am an apparition in the people he meets while roaming the streets. Although there is space in my heart for him, there is nowhere for us to exist together.

His face appears during my loneliest moments and I bury myself in his embrace as I crush my face into the pillow.

Moonlight lights up our connection across the sands of time as I gaze longingly into the night sky, wondering, for the millionth time, if he’s gazing back at me.

32 Years of Iris and Lotus

This is the tale of Iris and Lotus, and their thirty-two years. Together they live on separatea planets, connected across space and time, yet somehow always miles apart. They exist in a deep-rooted state of longing that neither will admit to the other.

Poor Iris.

She has spent a lifetime searching the sky for a glimpse of the ever-changing moon that has always connected her to him. Although she has built a beautiful life for herself, she secretly dreams of one on a different planet—a life where she can be with Lotus, where she can let his love wash over her and keep her in a dream-like state. There, she can forget her reality and reimagine herself anew.

Will she ever stop feeling the intoxication of his love? The addiction that overtakes her when she bites into the inebriating fruit of his presence?

Poor Lotus.

He longs for Iris—his one true love. Her words are a soothing balm and carry a wisdom that connects him to a higher power. He grasps for her rainbow and dreams of the feeling of her lips on his, the familiar taste of her mouth. Although he has built a beautiful life for himself, he is secretly unhappy, and would change so much if he could. For, like Iris, he chose a certain life instead of a certain love.

Will he ever realize that Iris is nothing more than a passing illusion? That beyond her beauty is an ever changing wind that will blow her away and leave him longing to see her again?

Thirty-two years and counting.

She remains moored on the island of his love while the idea of him lives rent-free in the corners of her mind. It is all because they chose a certain life instead of a certain love.

Beyond the Perfect Exterior

I'm sorry if I'm not who you thought I was.

I used to appear strong, but now you see my Achilles' heel. Will you use that against me, or will you choose empathy?

Will you look beyond the shiny exterior to see that all I ever want is to be loved and accepted for who I am?

Because that is all anyone ever truly wants.

To be loved. To belong.

Every day, I make a choice. I choose to work hard, to be positive, to do the right thing. I choose to be a rule follower. I choose to move my body, to eat green things, to drink water. I choose a book instead of a screen. I choose what's right for me, even when it isn't the popular choice.

I choose confidence. I choose to make a difference. I choose to love. I choose kindness. I choose hope. I choose to be invincible.

I choose to belong to me. I am my own perfect tribe.

I make these choices actively, every single day.

Without them, self-doubt would set in. The constant worry that I’m not enough, and the deep-rooted need to be wanted and to belong, would overshadow the light that shines within me.

It may seem like everything is perfect, but it isn't.

So look beyond who you think I am and realize that you, too, have a choice.

Summer of Love

This has been a summer of romance.  Not literal and perhaps not even literary if you consider the trashy books I've been reading of late.  But written well or not, it's romance nonetheless.  

I've roamed the streets of Europe in love with life, beauty and being in the moment.  Transported myself to times when I was only responsible for myself.  I've explored passions deeper than what real life has to offer by traveling through someone else's narrative book after spicy book.

All this time to revel in romance has given me time to think about myself.  Who am I really?  

Reflecting on Tessa Bailey's "Secretly Yours" and Pablo Neruda's poetry, I have spent time questioning my true self, the impact of societal expectations, and the choices made in silence.

Can one live a fulfilling life without expressing deep, sincere feelings?

The novel prompts thoughts on adult responsibilities distracting from meaningful pursuits, and the uncertainty of expectations versus reality. Fate, unpredictable, sometimes brings unexpected gifts, challenging our planned narratives.

In the solitude of travel (both literal and literary) I have grown a new ability to sit in silence in search of self-awareness. I wonder if this silence is a sign of contentment or overwhelm? Bailey's passage citing the, "Chivalrous hero that lived rent-free in her memory," resonates, as does the notion of life unfolding differently from expectations.

Pablo Neruda's sonnet XVII raises questions about living authentically, and I ponder the consequences of not listening to one's inner voice.

Life's unpredictability is encapsulated in the idea that fate keeps its own schedule, sometimes surprising us with unexpected presents.

What is yet to come?

Where will I travel next?

Who will join me on this journey?

I'm not as invisible as the world would have me think I am.

I still have lots of life to live and many summers of love ahead of me.