As a little girl, I always thought the moon followed me wherever I’d go. I also thought it fell asleep when I did, though. At least that was what my 4 year old self was innocently told, and doctor after specialist said that there’s no harmless way to force my melatonin and seratonin to flow…
I’ll admit, it was also something I occasionally turned to later in life, when the late nights took a toll on my self confidence’s growth (more as a comforting blanket, a sweet simplicity not to believe, just to hold). It’s hard, when your brain makes it so hard to fit society’s strictly studied mold.
So, at a young age, the battle began.
It continued to wage— “What do we do?” “She’s not adjusting well.” That’s pretty much how the story goes.
I struggled… and I struggled… just so, every night, the moon could put on its show and it’s a thankless job, with silence that has long grown lonely and cold.