'19' Last Days Of Being a Teenager |Memoir

The full moon keeps me Company III

Hey, friend, I still don't understand the geography involving your oscillation. All I know is you come around and then disappear for weeks.

My room is illuminated by colourful wall lighting inspired by TikTok and a central white fluorescent globe, yet it's still dark in your absence.

You aren't like your cousin  Sun. How do you two get along? Someday you'll tell me when I come to visit you. I promise–I won't ruin your floor with my nation's flag–neither will I bring any gift of any kind, except you want me to. The only item I come with is a pen and a journal.

Moon, beneath that bright and luminous light you emit. I see the despair in some dark corners, and I want to explore them; that's if you let me. If you don't mind, I also have a few questions for you.

I believe you have a story; your transformation in shape and position tells that, sadly, the world isn't listening to. See me as your medium, see me as your messenger, see me as your friend.

I'd like to know more about you. Like a full name, for starters; Moon ...  what? Where do you come from? What do you think of our universe?

Although there are answers for that in science, philosophy textbooks in my school library, I'd rather hear it in your own words; however, you choose to communicate them. I believe you have a story, and I want to listen to it. I want to share it if you see me worthy.