place for me. That’s the only thing that hasn’t changed in all these years.
The creek is the one place in this world where I feel right. I feel content here. It is easy to soak in the night sky. It is easy to talk to the moon out here because I feel like she listens. Out here, I don’t feel the pressure. The pressure to find the parts of me I left hidden between pages of a story I never wanted to forget, but somehow, End is always in the place I looked. The sun sees what I do, but the moon, the moon knows all my secrets. Even the darkest ones I’ll never be able to admit, even to myself.
Out here, with the rippling sounds of nature and the smell of fresh grass, I never grow tired of the moon. It’s cratered with imperfections, visible from light years away. And, at times, I feel like a walking, talking imperfection. The moon has a dark side, just like so many of us, and it sits alone in the sea of stars. For all intents and purposes, I feel like I am the moon.
There’s a cool breeze out tonight that ruffles my hair, warding a slight chill through my body. When I pass the hill and get to the creek, my mouth turns down as I take in all the garbage, just as I did the night before. I also can’t ignore the flashes of memories that slam into me as I stand near the dark, murky water, watching it move back and forth in a dance of sorts. Running and chasing. Reaching and falling back.
The creek has always held some of my best memories, but now, as I stand here, there are new memories, ones I’ve tried like hell to forget over the years. I close my eyes, thinking of that night with Endymion. I picture that foolish doe-eyed girl, thinking she finally had a chance with the boy who had always put those stars in her eyes. I was so reckless that night. I put so much faith in a love I so desperately thought I wanted. But that is just the thing about chasing love—you can’t. Love comes to you when it’s ready. Love comes at the most inopportune times. And if you are lucky, love won’t find you at all.
For a long time, I wondered if I ever really loved Endymion. Could love truly be one-sided? Could you have so much hope and love for a relationship, for a future that wasn’t promised, even if the other person didn’t know you existed? I didn’t think so. It wasn’t until I gave birth to Luna that I learned what true love is. It is smiling in the face of agony. It is counting my lucky stars that out of all the souls in the universe, the moon brought her to me.
My obsession with the moon is obvious, but I named Luna after the moon because the it is magic for the soul, and it is light for the senses. The second I held my daughter in my arms, that’s exactly what she was to me. She was a wonder. She was my moonchild.
Plopping down on the grass, I rest back on my elbows, just as I used to do when I was younger, and I stare up at the dark indigo sky. There’s a smattering of stars dusted along the dark blanket, and the moon, without fail, casts a bright silvery glow along the ground.
“Give me a sign,” I whisper to the moon. “Please tell me what to do.”
I close my eyes, waiting for the answer to come to me. I’m not surprised when it doesn’t. Not even the moon can help me out of this predicament.
“Figures,” I mumble under my breath.
“What does?”
I let out a startled yelp at the sound of the deep voice. I swing around, toward the source, eyes wide with surprise when I spot Endymion eating up the distance between us. He slows to a stop a few feet beside me, staring down at me.
He’s wearing the same clothes he wore to dinner, and somehow, they look even better on him in an outdoor setting.
“What…how…” I trail off, unable to form a coherent sentence. Endymion chuckles. The sound drifts down to me, swirling through my body, raising the gooseflesh on my skin. If this were a cartoon, his laughter would have a stream of music notes attached to it, and those notes would encircle