At 4 a.m., when sleep is not embracing me, there is something I love to do, opening my comfort song and hearing the first words, “One day I wrote a long letter to the moon.”
And just like this, I wrote a long letter to my moon standing in front of my window and looking at the night sky. There is something about it when the clock hits 4 a.m. I try to differentiate if the sky is dark blue or pitch black while the cold breeze touches my skin. I inhale the air and it feels free.
Nothing matters at that moment, only me and the thought of you. The smell of the last raindrops slowly falling down the leaves of every tree. With every breath I let out, it feels like I’m letting go of the load in my soul, the load on my shoulders. Lights off, the city is resting as the darkness wraps its arms around the small city.
Yes, it’s like living and dying at the same time. Dying at the beauty the night in front of my eyes has to offer. I wonder how many dreams are delivered to the moon. And with these thoughts, my eyes wander to the moon. Sometimes she likes to rest in the centre of the stars, so peaceful and silent. It looks like she has the company of millions of small shining orbs, yet she looks so lonely.
Right when the clock hits 4 a.m., I’m standing under the moon thinking of you. I’m asking myself how you start your day just when I’m spending the last moments of a long day. Did you wake up good? Did you sleep tight? All these questions fill my head. But in the end, I just end up thinking, I hope you can feel the warmth I’m sending you right now.
Isn’t it beautiful to think of how you could be smiling right now in the other end of the world after I sent the moon a thought of you? The last few moments of my days are always filled with you.
In this lonely night, I found warmth in the thought of you. It has always been you, my biggest source of warmth. My forever moonlight.