She taught me to love the moon. Every time I look up to the sky and admire its beauty I think of her. But how can I enjoy such beauty on my own? The moon was beautiful because of her. I urge myself not to contact her in attempts to share the beauty. What good will it do to try and share it with her if she doesn't want to anymore. No, I cannot share this happiness and beauty and in a way it ceases to be happiness and beauty.
The beautiful sky outside the city with beautiful formations in the morning clears up at night to paint the night sky with stars. I look up and see the moon shining upon the water and sand, I see each star and feel I’m in a painting. I want her to be here, but that’s not possible and even if she were here, she wouldn't be. If only you could be here for this beauty, but would you find it beautiful too with me now? She has decided to share the beauty with someone else. I will not be the one she wants to point this too as she smiles and sighs.
I open my eyes wider to observe the scene around me. The simple huts and the hammocks around, all immersed in a dark blue color that I have not seen in any painting or photo. I want to capture it but I know others have tried and the paintings and photos do not do it justice. The sea and the sky melt into one dark blue color as soon as the distant land and ships disappear. I cannot capture this image with its deep colors flooding my eyes and that’s why I open them wide, to take the moment in, knowing it is fleeting, just like my time with her. On many nights I did not take it in, and that is what I regret, but I’m grateful that before it was over I enjoyed the moments and took them all in, knowing that they cannot be captured, only remembered.
The moon’s reflection on the surface of the water captivates me. This giant beacon of light overshadowing all other lights changes the color of the water making it look like a pathway to a magical land. The scene looks like a movie set. No. Better than a movie set, all the magic without anything false about it. The water looks as though one could walk on it.
She is the moon reflected on the surface of the water, but the part of the water upon which the moon’s rays are reflected shift depending on where you’re standing on the shore.
Still I cannot but look at nature and think of her. The beauty around me seems incomplete. But that person I want to share it with is not there anymore. There was something real about the whole thing, but it’s not there anymore. Just like a shooting star in the sky, momentary and passing yet beautiful for the brief seconds it may last. There’s no point running to where the shooting star fell or looking for it. It was just like the waves. She was the sea and our time together was like the waves that hit the shore to form a splendid sound, but then the waves were there no more even though the sea remained. She is still there but our waves are not, and I look upon my sea and remember my waves. The sea still moves me because for a brief moment the waves were mine.
Sometimes I want to send these thoughts and more to my waves, the moon’s reflection on the water, but I keep them to myself. I would be sending them to a place worse than nowhere. I would be sending them out to the sea, but they would never find her. It is a sea that I thought was mine but never really was.
The waves are gone and yet every time I look upon the sea I long for them. I must move on and come to terms that there will be no more waves for me, no more waves for me.
She taught me to love the moon; that I cannot unlearn. I have lost the waves, the shooting stars and even the sea, but I’ll always have the moon. Sometimes I long for her and sometimes I see her before my eyes but she’s not truly there. I close my eyes then search for the moon. I am comforted when I look upon it for that is the love I have left. But difficult are the days when the moon does not shine across the skies.
Listen to me in the background
The beautiful sky outside the city with beautiful formations in the morning clears up at night to paint the night sky with stars. I look up and see the moon shining upon the water and sand, I see each star and feel I’m in a painting. I want her to be here, but that’s not possible and even if she were here, she wouldn't be. If only you could be here for this beauty, but would you find it beautiful too with me now? She has decided to share the beauty with someone else. I will not be the one she wants to point this too as she smiles and sighs.
I open my eyes wider to observe the scene around me. The simple huts and the hammocks around, all immersed in a dark blue color that I have not seen in any painting or photo. I want to capture it but I know others have tried and the paintings and photos do not do it justice. The sea and the sky melt into one dark blue color as soon as the distant land and ships disappear. I cannot capture this image with its deep colors flooding my eyes and that’s why I open them wide, to take the moment in, knowing it is fleeting, just like my time with her. On many nights I did not take it in, and that is what I regret, but I’m grateful that before it was over I enjoyed the moments and took them all in, knowing that they cannot be captured, only remembered.
The moon’s reflection on the surface of the water captivates me. This giant beacon of light overshadowing all other lights changes the color of the water making it look like a pathway to a magical land. The scene looks like a movie set. No. Better than a movie set, all the magic without anything false about it. The water looks as though one could walk on it.
She is the moon reflected on the surface of the water, but the part of the water upon which the moon’s rays are reflected shift depending on where you’re standing on the shore.
Still I cannot but look at nature and think of her. The beauty around me seems incomplete. But that person I want to share it with is not there anymore. There was something real about the whole thing, but it’s not there anymore. Just like a shooting star in the sky, momentary and passing yet beautiful for the brief seconds it may last. There’s no point running to where the shooting star fell or looking for it. It was just like the waves. She was the sea and our time together was like the waves that hit the shore to form a splendid sound, but then the waves were there no more even though the sea remained. She is still there but our waves are not, and I look upon my sea and remember my waves. The sea still moves me because for a brief moment the waves were mine.
Sometimes I want to send these thoughts and more to my waves, the moon’s reflection on the water, but I keep them to myself. I would be sending them to a place worse than nowhere. I would be sending them out to the sea, but they would never find her. It is a sea that I thought was mine but never really was.
The waves are gone and yet every time I look upon the sea I long for them. I must move on and come to terms that there will be no more waves for me, no more waves for me.
She taught me to love the moon; that I cannot unlearn. I have lost the waves, the shooting stars and even the sea, but I’ll always have the moon. Sometimes I long for her and sometimes I see her before my eyes but she’s not truly there. I close my eyes then search for the moon. I am comforted when I look upon it for that is the love I have left. But difficult are the days when the moon does not shine across the skies.
Listen to me in the background
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