Operation Centuria: The First 25

Day 23: WHEN DOES THE MOON CRY ("Glimmer of Light") by Pauline Navarro

It was a night like this when I met her. 

The air was cold. The sky was starless. The evening had a frightening feel about it.

I was outside, floating about in my own little space.  I liked detaching myself from the world in order to think. 

Unlike everyone else, I spent my evenings reflecting on issues bigger than Facebook and Twitter. Often, I bother myself with pesky questions. On that particular night, I dealt with the irony of love.

Being very observant, I’ve seen people fall in love millions of times. All it takes is a pinch of chance and a hint of attraction. After adding those ingredients, the magic will unravel all by itself. All of these people who “fell in love” claim that the ups and downs are all part of the magical process. It’s something that just happens but it will make you happy in the end.

I beg to differ.

People project love as this beautiful and powerful thing. But isn’t love just a word that is coined to label something? If I went back in time and used the term “hate” to describe whatever it is, wouldn’t hate be the new love as love would be hate? And wouldn’t that mean that we are all deceitful? We try so hard to contain one feeling into one word even if it is meant to be so much more. Love is not the “butterflies in your stomach” or the “blush on your cheeks”. It’s… it’s something more but not something perfect.

Am I still making sense?

I guess, not. And that night, I knew that I never really did. No matter what I thought about, I just did it to drive myself nuts. 

Maybe I am already crazy.

With those thoughts still in my head, I continue looking out to nowhere.

Suddenly, a particular figure in a pale dress catches my eye.

 A girl. 

She’s something and she’s going to be something more. I knew it from the moment I saw her. I just didn’t want to admit it yet. I had to think of a silly excuse to allow myself to stare at her. In reality, I just couldn’t tear my gaze away from her. The whole world could be on fire and I wouldn’t care. She’s all that I saw.

Using my former internal debate about “love” as an excuse, I tested the waters. What if this is chance knocking on my door and giving me an opportunity to answer my questions? Who am I to let it pass? The very girl that caught my attention could be my key to love.

 I approached her, telling myself that this was all an experiment. 

To my surprise, I found liquid diamond flowing down her cheeks. All my instincts told me to bolt. Let’s just say that I’ve had too many terrible experiences with crying girls. But the pain sketched in features stopped me. I didn’t realize it at the time but I was already promising to do everything I can so that she won’t ever be sad again.

I stayed near her, trying so hard to let her see the light. Wordlessly, she sighed and tried to push out her fears with that huff of air. She dried her tears and looked up at me.

That prompted several meet-ups. Every night, we met up at the same park. As our “relationship” grew, I learned that she couldn’t speak. Because of that, I got the chance to know her by her gestures. I discovered how her body language speaks volumes. Biting her lip = nervousness. Scratching her nose = silliness or childishness. Sighing = trying to calm down. Tapping her feet = impatience. Touching her chest = being happy from the bottom of her heart.

The more time I spent with her, the more I learned how to fall in love and why they called it “falling”. It wasn’t just testing the theories. I’m becoming the lab rat.

During the day, when I’m out in my own space, I dream of her. I even try to come up with metaphors to describe her. She’s more than the sea’s waves brushing the shore. The tingles that she gives me doesn’t recede even after a while. She’s more than a flower. Her beauty doesn’t wilt even if she’s out of the water. 

I finally decided. She’s like the sun. She shines so bright… bright enough to light up the whole world.

Little did I know that my description had a little more weight to it. She really is my sun and we can never be together.

It’s been five years and eleven months. I’m in my full circle again. I can see her from above and I note that she has changed. She’s older, more beautiful and happier. There are no longer liquid diamonds in her eyes. A little girl calls her “Mommy”.

Yes, I’ve let her go and now she’s married, our one-sided thing forgotten…. forgotten by her.

But I won’t ever forget because you don’t just forget. Not because you don’t want to. Not because you can’t. People were not made to be forgotten. People existed to live… and their memories do the same.

I’m just hurt. That’s the reality of the situation. It still is, even after all those years. That love experiment thing surely backfired on me. Still, I couldn’t blame her for not liking me back.

After all, she just turned to the sky that night for a little comfort… and then she saw me. I gave her peace just like I gave everyone else who asked. The only difference is that she’s wonderful and I paid extra attention. 

And that was the story of the first blue moon.

Inspired by Avatar: the Last Airbender and The Man in the Moon