Look At the Moon, He Said

I don't really know what to say that hasn't already been said.

There was a night when the moon was full. Its light danced with the water just so. I often message my best friend all the way in California when the moon is like that. This time I didn't have to because she was right there looking at the same moon. The beautiful noise of the punk rock cruise subsided. I put my arm under hers and put my head on her shoulder. We said nothing. We just stared out at the moon.

Yeah, I cried. I don't think she caught on that I was crying. I wasn't sad. I wanted time to stop. Just for a little while. I wanted to move around in that moment. Dance in it. Laugh in it.

Lean into it.

I thought about the year I'd had and the year she'd had and was glad each of us survived. Her year is her story to tell, but I can say that I got off a lot easier than her. I wanted my best friend to just be okay.

I cried because I am happy. Happy tears are the best kind of tears. I find that the moon has a habit of bringing them out.



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