The shafts of blue moon light remind me.
My grandmother still asks about you.
About us. A story from long ago with no ending chapter, no final page, no definite conclusion. Just words that lost all semblance of meaning, hollow as the slow beat in my chest.
If you needed space, just tell me.
If I broke your heart, let me know.
Pour salt on the wound, rub sandpaper on my soul, call the craters of this blue moon down upon me, I don't care.
The silence bruised me more than the thought of forever letting you go.
I can’t live as though I never knew you without knowing why. No matter how hard I try or how much I believe what happened was right, I am reminded as the blue moon rises that I cannot forget you.
Not completely.
Most days are more than fine, some nights are not.
The thoughts of the last, the ghosts of my past, dance in unexpected blue moonlight, whispering of the story that has no end.
As the blue moon shines down, tell me why our happy ending was never meant to be. What was the final page in the story of you and me?
But you are happy now,
and so I too must move my orbit beyond the blue moon to find the stars that wait for me.