Luna & Sol pt.I
Dear Sun,
Maybe it’s because I’m still in the throws of it, but it’s very apparent how many parts of your face and your voice have changed recently. And that’s okay. They are granted and deserved in some regard. And I’m not here to judge you for all the needles you wear outwardly as you face the world. Rather, something has developed incredibly, and I’m here to remind you that no matter how many times you’ve fallen and risen in the past, you are barreling toward safety. Comfort, even.
If I could travel back in time and ask the younger you what the one gift you’d ask for from another human being would be, you’d say it’s impossible, but I would give anything to feel safe.
Perhaps every failure you’ve ever had in relating to people intimately – vulnerable and terrified as you were – was meant to give you an unease. Not, that it’s any consolation for the pain, or any instant dissolution of the traits you’ve developed because of them. Rather, if any of those moments of survival and dread hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t have wound up right there at her door. When you both needed it the most.
Many things are still yet to mutate. And without critique, many things within you have already changed, outside of your control. In an instant – and I can feel you fighting against it – you’re swimming in a new sensation. To have your perspective mirrored back to you, and your instincts flipped, the awe you are experiencing is understandable. It’s important now, to keep the hope you feel in the driver’s seat.
To help with that, let me remind you;
I felt your heart swell when you heard her voice. I saw you well up when you finally looked her in the eyes. Heard you pant, and choke, and sob when the idea of it all became so overwhelming. And I see you frozen in moments, not knowing what to do because everything has been altered.
With absolute sincerity, I promise it will get easier. Not the part where you have to contend with distance. But the part where someone lives within you now, but is not there in person. It’s hard. I know. However, if you hold onto that feeling – just the boiling desire, not the inaction – until proximity to you becomes a reality, you will serve that love better. In the meantime, let it act as a reminder of how unfathomably lucky you are and feel.
You knew, immediately, that she was your beacon. And the more that knowing spurs and rattles your spine, the less likely you are ever to let your awareness of her light dim. You owe that to her, at least. And you owe it to yourself. Especially the version of yourself that had become convinced you were unworthy of not living in the dark.
The precipice is behind us now, and I need you to lean into that undying trust you feel. She has always been there. Illuminating you in the night. In all of the empty spaces, you saw in others. In all of the misaligned pieces, you tried to puzzle together. In all of the times, the tide took you in. In all of the tears, you gave to people with no space for you. In all of the monumental moments, in which you knew there was something more, you felt your existence reaching out into the darkness, begging to be noticed. In all of the rest. In all of the recovery. In all of the pinging excitement, you’ve felt every single time a cloud bloomed and wowed you and all of the sunsets you stood in front of. She has always been there. Without a name.
Take solace. You are seen.
Dear Moon,
There is so much to say. And yet, nothing that needs words. My heart has been yours from that first day onward, and with that comes a lot of hope and a promise; to never lose sight of who and what you are.
You have built up this resilience to feeling like you’re being seen through and knowing that you probably have to either be the sharpest person there, or self-sufficient enough to deny potential reliance on anyone else has given you the tools to find comforts in a storm. I understand that this has been a natural, defensive, protective reaction to feeling overlooked, but I can assure you that to the right people, you are an unmissable glow. To me, you are impossible to ignore.
You are the brightest thing in my sky.
The version of Earth that has you in hiding, is my least favorite version of this world.
The state you’ve been in – that you’ve been using to survive – has ultimately only been dishonest to yourself. And I mean that in the most loving and assuring way possible. Sure, you can collect all of the moments in which you put yourself away into a drawer and wore someone else’s costume to make their lives easier if you wish to. I also understand that all of those things have been a crucial portion of your journey to wind up right here, right now. But I have never met another soul that deserves to be themselves as much as you do.
And while it saddens me that you had to – looking backward – when I switch my perspective and turn towards the future, it becomes hard to type or read my screen through the vibrations of excitement I feel swell up within me.
How lucky am I to be the man to hold up a mirror to you? That I get to shower you with compassion, listen to your story – either of your day, or of your life – and soak it all in. So fortunate am I, that I get the opportunity to help you heal (as you do for me), encourage you to live out loud, and celebrate your splendor. It is quite magical to participate in.
If I spend the rest of my time on Earth showing you how astounding you are and continuing to expand my craft, that is a life worthy of a story. That idea instantly kills every fear and meaningless worry I have ever let keep me up at night.
Part of your unwavering beauty is comprised of the bits and pieces of where you’ve been, what you’ve been through, and it’s also part of where you are going. An adventure and radiance that I cannot wait to bear witness to.
We have both spent a lot of time and effort in adapting ourselves to fit someone else’s ideal. But it has always been you that I have been waiting to fit into all of these grooves. In your true form. And I have never had to try, even once, to find a place for it to sit.
Take comfort. You are seen.
