I sit on the edge of the world, clouds below me, I dangle my feet off the edge.
The snow capped mountain in which I sit makes me freeze and shiver.
I am on the highest hill.
I have a feeling in my stomach, it could be my fear of heights.
The full moon shining its light only on the ground miles below me. Oh, I wish I had fallen already; that moonlight would feel so nice on my skin.
Strong wind attempts to persuade me, pushing me inches closer to the edge.
I stand up, close my eyes, and lean forward. I feel the icy air rushing against my face as I fall.
It feels amazing—the thrill, the rush, the spontaneity. I feel... understood.
I was always scared of heights, or maybe it was falls, but when I hit the ground, it wasn’t hard. It was soft, and warm from the moonlight, and I couldn’t help but think: this is what I want.
If my moonlight be a her, she would show me what it means to be loved. She would show me what being wanted, being cared for, and what being needed felt like. She would reach out for my hand on a walk—but only if I didn’t reach first. She would make sure I made it home from work safe when it's stormy, or ask for a bedtime story so she could fall asleep better. She would be the thing that I can say makes me happiest. She would be you, my love.
Forever yours,
❤️