In my depressed state, I let myself be swallowed by the darkness. I felt alone, working myself through my quotidian existence with a heavy heart. There was no one I could talk to, no one I could turn to, no one to reassure me that everything’s going to be alright.
So I looked up and cried my heart out to the moon, shining brightly above me. I know it won’t offer words to comfort me but knowing that someone is there, or at least something, is reassuring. Letting tears fall without being judged will help wash away all the pains and the resentments.
Wallowing in my misery, I didn’t realize that tears were flowing profusely from the moon’s face. It seemed barren but the pain etched on its face is palpable to the naked eye. But how can something so stern, so steady, so resolute be in such a listless state. Is it losing its magic touch?
Then it hit me. The moon is crying for the pains of everyone who sought refuge in it, just like me. The moon probably saw, felt and heard the saddest stories spanning a lifetime.It is crying for the pain others felt. But unperturbed, it musters the courage to beacon through the darkness, to guide those who got lost and those who cannot find their way.
I just wish I can also be like the moon, a shining inspiration in the dimmed reality. Such were my thoughts when the moon and I cried each others pain out, me for my miserable existence, and it for all the miseries it saw, heard and felt from everyone the world over.