I came back to our familiar quiet corner, the place we once shared, the place we named The secret spot, This hill overlooking the forest has always been dear to me. I still come here from time to time, alone with my thoughts, drifting somewhere between reality and dreams.
From where I am sitting, evening is beginning to settle. In a strange and breathtaking way, it feels as though I am seated between the Sun and the Moon themselves. I don’t know which one to look at. The Sun is slowly preparing to disappear beyond the horizon, while on the opposite side, the Moon has risen, almost full and glowing gold.
The sight changes something inside me.
It reminds me that my father was the Sun of my life, and you were the Moon.
My father was radiant. He carried warmth and gave me the feeling of being alive. And you—you were as beautiful as the Moon itself. You shared its colors. You carried both light and darkness within you. Perhaps you were made of silver and shadows, a beautiful shade of gray.
I remember how you used to call me the Sun of your life, saying it in my mother tongue with that charming accent I miss more than I can explain.
Then a thought crosses my mind.
Maybe my light was simply too much for you.
Maybe those dark eyes of yours—the ones that turned such a beautiful color whenever sunlight touched them—couldn’t bear it anymore.
Just like now, when I cannot stare directly at the Sun because its brightness hurts my eyes, yet I still find it magnificent.
Perhaps I was magnificent to you too.
And perhaps I was too much.
Maybe that’s why you chose to place me behind the clouds and walk away, so that my light would no longer reach you.
I turn my head toward the Moon.
But when I look at it, I feel as though I am burning from the inside.
I remember the night we decided to dance together one last time. The Moon never appeared. It was as if it refused to witness our final dance side by side. Maybe it wanted us to kiss each other instead, the way we did the first time. Maybe even the Moon couldn’t bear the thought of our story ending beneath its gaze.
The truth is, I never managed to forget you.
Not after our last dance, when I knew it might be the final time your hands would circle my waist and pull me close.
The last time I would feel your touch.
The last time I would feel your spirit.
The last time I would see the copper glow of your skin.
The last time I would feel the warmth of your body.
Not even after all those “last times.”
Not even after our final painful conversation.
There is something about you that simply cannot be forgotten.
In fact, there are countless things about you that refuse to fade.
You exist in every lyrics
You exist in every small scar
You seem to live inside every moment of my life.
And my beloved,
After you, I met other people.
Each of them beautiful in their own way.
But with none of them did I hear a voice awaken inside me.
No music rose from my heart.
My heart never became a companion to my footsteps.
It never moved.
And that frightens me.
I fear what happens if that feeling inside me dies completely.
I fear what happens if one day I like someone, yet my love for you is still alive.
Even not knowing where you are carries its own kind of fear.
I have not opened my heart to anyone after you.
Instead, I opened the most private parts of myself through my writing.
I laid bare my emotions, my truths, my memories, and my soul before readers who know almost nothing about me.
And somehow, that feels good.
Ah…
This vision of the Sun and the Moon has pulled me completely into thoughts of you.
I wish that, at this very moment, the Sun and the Moon stood face to face across the sky—
and you stood before me.
And all the distance, all the silence, all the longing between us
would end
with a deep kiss,
born from missing each other for far too long.
Ashley the name you gave me
submitted by /u/Nabatamb
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