Take me to the moon

It was a cloudless night.

The sky was perfect. The ocean reflected the sky, or, rather, the sky reflected the ocean.

The moon shone beautifully, the stars sailed across the dark sea. A warm, summer breeze swam through the air—

It was days like this, that he wished— he was here.

His tender yet strong voice, confident, and full of charm. Himself has never heard a voice that rang so close to what can be described as a beautiful melody, it was smooth as the Milky Way streaks— striking as the silver meteors that rained upon the Earth— and remarkable as the northern lights.

The man sat down onto the soft grass, he remembered this exact location— everything here is exactly where it has been, the wispy trees that singed behind them as they sat under the universe, and everything revolves around them— nothing else mattered. All it matter was that they were with each other, and they were here, just so happened to be alive at the same time- and to be able to meet each other.

And one day. The other had a childish thought.

"What if we went to the moon?"

He remembered that he stared at him with first, bewilderment, then he laughed.

"Biffa! You know that's impossible right?" He heard himself chuckle. As he rose up from the grass to look at his friend.

He remembered the way he used to laugh.

It was only ever for him he would ever laugh like that.

"X, I'm not joking— What if- we went to the moon. Together— only us, and no one else." His tone was... serious, for what who is always goofing around.

"Wha—"

"Me and you. Just us." The other said, sitting up now as well. Now suddenly, he found his hand to be gripped by his hands, he remembered the coldness of those hands— but he also remembered the rare warmth that came from them.

His eyes were glowing— they were serious, there was nothing about this being a joke.

He remembered himself hesitating, but—

"I— I think it's a great idea." He heard himself say. He saw tears rolling down his face while smiling, silently.

And now, he found himself crying too, but without a smile.

Where he used to be, was now a grave.

The stone had his name carved on it. The last name and it's dated was scratched out by himself a long time ago. Refusing to accept that it was him that was truly gone.

Biffa —//-/#*

19-/ — 20//\|
A loving man, and one with endless ambition

It has been almost 5 years- he didn't need a date to remember when he passed. He keeps telling himself that he won't come back, no matter how many times he visits this place.

But this time, it was for good.

He was here to say goodbye.

He never said goodbye the way he wanted to— He never wanted to say goodbye to him in front of the emergency room— he never wanted to say goodbye to him in the casket— he never got to do so many things he wanted to do with him.

And it's still difficult as ever.

To imagine that he was gone.

And he will never feel his embrace again.

His warmth.

His kindness.

And all those songs he sang.

He will never hear him again. And it's the truth that he'll have to deal with.

"Goodbye." The lonely one spoke out.