It just finished raining here, and the road’s still glistening with rainwater. Hopefully tomorrow there won’t be any more downpours, but with this tropical storm up north, I think that’s wishful thinking. The moonlight is hidden within a stratum of clouds, but I feel it’s there, just the same.
Ever since the wind stopped listening to me, I’ve talked to the moon every night. Before, when I had to talk to someone and everyone else is already asleep, I step onto the balcony and wait for the chilly night wind to blow. Then I talk. I talk about events, my feelings, my thoughts. And the wind always listened. It blew on my skin, made my hairs stand on end, and wrapped around me. Whenever I’d come and visit my relatives in Laguna, they’d always find me on the rooftop, talking to the wind. That rooftop was one place where I felt my emotions unfold uncontrollably.
The cool, evening wind listened to me talk about Kenshin, about my friends, about my Grade 9 life. But most of all, the wind loved to listen to me talk about Ella. Whenever I mention her name, the wind would shift ever so slightly.
But since that day, the last time I went there, the wind had stopped listening. The trees didn’t sway, the leaves didn’t rustle. The wind didn’t blow.
That was when the clouds made way for the full moon. It shone its silver light upon me. And I felt comforted by its presence. So I decided to talk to the moon.
The wind left me. But in its place, you’ve come. A new companion in the night. The moon.
At times, the clouds would hide its light, but I come out and talk anyway. Even if I couldn’t see it, I can feel its glowing presence, taking me into its comforting embrace. It makes me feel as if I can connect my thoughts and feelings to that one person.
At night when the stars light up my room
I sit by myself
Talking to the moon, trying to get to you
In hopes you’re on the other side, talking to me too
Or am I a fool, who sits alone
Talking to the moon.
This is your lonely blogger The EnglishRazor, logging off.