It was the day the Moon fell. He started down in haste as if the scale had been tipped off by the flick of a finger. The clouds moved apart to make way for the Moon, which was sailing across the skies like a kid swaying in a hammock. Until that moment, we could not have guessed such a thing would occur. The moon had been guarding our nights faithfully; we have taken his dutifulness for granted. We taunted his pride by revering the Sun. That silvery gleam flooding our dilapidated earth with all his grace had disappeared. A light so beautiful for being unattainable and remote. The Moon finally gave up on us and came down to our despicable land to be one of us. A proper human being with a grey conscience, desirous greed, and an inclination to be faulty in one way or another. Precious with its imperfections yet never as impressive, ethereal, and magnificent as the Moon. It was baffling for us; we just could not grasp why the Moon might have wanted to be like us while being on the surface of the Moon has embellished our dreams as Humanity.
He had a plain appearance, which was an intentional choice when he was designing his new human body. The eyes were charcoal marbles, the nose was neither sharp and thin nor noticeably remarkable in any shape. We were extremely disappointed, to be frank. We have been gathered around his temporary settlement, where he used the scabs of its old form to construct a makeshift booth. The long-anticipated reveal, something we looked forward to; as if we were children again and the Moon, a cartoon show that was broadcast every evening right before bedtime. The show was canceled, and our expectations cut short.
Whatever he was here for, he successfully blended in with the rest of us. Moving into the modest bungalow down the street, he offered his neighbors homemade food as a meeting gift. It was shameful to us that the Moon knew more about courtesy and etiquette than us humans, who take pride in debating morality and enjoy flaunting its knowledge of philosophy. The whole neighborhood was talking about the new addition to its ranks. The gossip was much like the usual, surprisingly. People soon forgot that the Moon descended to earth and was strutting our unkept, littered streets with a smile on its face. No one has engaged in an extended conversation with him, we were all taken aback with the sudden change in the atmosphere of our small neighborhood. Due to his undiscriminating politeness, the Moon greeted all that he encountered with his typical grace. This reminded us of his light, looking down on us, which we did not mind at all because we needed it. Now that the skies had one less member, we were missing his presence. Ironically, he was still with us but in an awkward, unsatisfying way.
Some of us despised his selfishness for coming down to earth. They strictly believed the Moon was neglecting his duties by living a mundane, mortal life. I admired his courage to join us here. Many think the Moon must be fearless, arrogant, and dynamic but I have seen a different side to him that made me respect him more. The satellite he used to be gave off a synthetic, unapproachable feeling; we watched it from afar. Once, I saw him crying and I remember thinking “He must be lonely.” None of us made the effort to approach him or make him feel at home in this new place he was unfamiliar with. We did not understand then that he was here for us.
Be that as it may, he managed to become an indispensable part of our daily lives. With time, we grew used to him. We often invited him to our houses. The Moon would let us talk whenever he came over; he knew our desire and longing to be listened to and happily, became someone we could share our burdens with. The people in the neighborhood were finally prospering. We held regular meetings to get away from our asphyxiating lives. It was easier to deal with life when we were together. I was confused how we did not think of such things before he arrived. Things were different – people enjoyed each other and strived to be more like the Moon, since their envy and jealousy was turning into admiration and appreciation.
Everything was going so well that we did not notice the changes in the Moon.
It was already too late when we came to realize the ramshackle state he was in. The skin was pale and cracked like a cold porcelain that was exposed to hot water. What struck us the most as a concerning sign was the sullen mood he carried around. This was not the same person as before but bearing in mind that none of us actually registered how his spirit deteriorated this much, the change must have been happening over a stretch of time. The realization stunned us, and we could not make sense of the reality of his mortality. We decided to confront the Moon about his condition. When we inquired, he simply smiled and assured us not to worry; this was all part of the transformation. This answer satisfied us – at least most of us...
Writing this journal from memory like this, I often feel a pang of dread. What if I have forgotten the most important thing? What if there is somewhere inside me, a dark corner, where all the truly important things remain hidden? What if they do not want to come out? What could I be missing? Strangely, the more these memories of the Moon fade, the more I can understand him. When the events were freshly committed and the feelings remaining from it were vivid, I struggled to put it into words. Words did not come to me then. Memory is a funny thing though. When I was in the scene, I hardly paid any attention to the scenery. I never stopped to think of it as something that would make a lasting impression, certainly never imagined that years later I would recall it in such detail. I, like the rest of us, was thinking only of myself at the time.
One day we were walking together. He was striding steadily forward, and I hurried after him, keeping a few paces behind, but something held me back. When I look back now, I find it deeply sorrowful. I was afraid of having to listen to him, to listen and to comfort. There were things out of my depth, the Moon, and whatever was troubling him was one of these. So, I walked with my eyes on the road. Obediently, I followed the clacking sound coming from the hard soles of his shoes. He suddenly turned around and I saw the Moon with a newfound infatuation. I was momentarily beguiled by his shimmering face, those plain features appeared divine. As it were, Adonis was standing in front of me. Staring purposefully in such a way to assert he was ready to die again in order to bestow us with pure life. A second chance free of sin. Spring was about to end, and he had to go soon.
That was the last time we saw the Moon. Our nights were brightened once again but something felt missing.
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