The story of the Sun and the Moon.

Tonight it's one of those nights, I realise I am all alone.

I used to enjoy the quiet.

But there are no more silences I can take.

How are you today? Have you eaten?

What do you dream about?

I was never interested in having many relationships. However, lately, something changed - I was louder.

How do you take your coffee? What music do you like?

I want to cry and scream sometimes.

As I write, I notice my vision becomes blurred. I can't hold it in anymore. But how can this help?

I want something deeper than a text, deeper than a moment.

Hello, are you okay?

Are we ever?

I keep trying to reach for something that I just can't touch. I keep trying to climb up each time I slip.

Tonight is one of those night, I lay in bed as a warm light reflects on my cheeks. Pen in hand and here I go, pour myself out, letting no one in.

I smile and nod.

Yes I'm okay.

If I say no, that doesn't mean anyone will stay.

I joke. I'm always laughing. But with every laugh, my heart sinks deeper. With every smile, my mind grows darker. With every word, my throat gets rougher.

Have you slept okay? Do you enjoy the sunshine?

How do you explain that the sun was never yours to love? You are made of stars and your God is the Moon.

Sometimes I wish I could just stop. Turn it all off and come back later. Like a smartphone. Like a dream. Like the song you started when you met me. The one you never quite.. finished playing.

You still cross my mind.

But this isn't about you.

You always were so convinced it was. You were the sun, I was Earth.

How ironic.

Anyway.

Back to me, just for tonight.

You see, I don't allow myself to think anymore.

I don't check in, I don't let it out.

I need space, I need affection. I need it all at the same time.

I can't breathe anymore.

Will you save me?

Will someone save me?

Will I find a reason? Will I make it?

I want so much, yet do so little; how common, how boring.

And all my thoughts are all over the place. There is always so much I want to say, and so much I want to add to that. And to this.

But how long can I write for? How big can a book be before its too long for anyone to read?

Do I even want someone to read me? See me?

Anyway, tonight it's all about me.

Because I deserve it.

So alone, so helpless, so hopeless and scared.

What are friends? What are people?

When you have no one to be with, no one to find, who do you turn to? Where do you hide?

Tonight is one of those nights, the sky is clear and the mind is heavy. I try to ignore the weight on my chest as I lay down and wait for the morning. The sun might never rise again.

But I will.

Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.

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