Hermoonlitworld 🤍

The light of the moon. 🌙🌷

[hermoonlit-world]

24.02.23

I miss the moon.

[hermoonlit-world]

I sat with my eighteen year old for coffee, She was wearing plain, I had some makeup on, she looked uncomfortable. She said I looked different. I know I told her, I got my ears pierced, my hair colored, I even wear makeup on normal days when I want to look nice. She said that’s nice. She asked me if I was happy, I told her about my son. She smiled, but you’ve always wanted a girl. But I told her I’ don’t think I can imagine anyone else in his place. She asked me about love and I tell her it’s nothing like what she imagines it to be, it’s so different, so much that I wish I was back in her place, she frowns and realizes I never answered; her first question. So she asked me again, are you happy. And I tell her I’m grateful I’ve got everything I prayed for. And that’s more than happiness.

[hermoonlit-world]

I pick up the pen to write, and my thoughts travel to you. My soul aches missing you. And I wonder, do you still go that coffee shop? Do you still think about me too when the moons out?

[hermoonlit-world]

I lived with the hope that maybe, maybe distance will make my heart forget but yet somehow I’m still writing about you

[hermoonlit-world]

Years pass and our paths cross again,

So much has changed yet your eyes look the same.

[hermoonlit-world]

It’s sad how we trust Ai with our pain, than our own people. How easy it is to communicate with a robot than it is to with our own loved ones.

[hermoonlit-world]

The type of love loud enough to silence every storm,

A love that feels like a breath of relief.

[hermoonlit-world]

What’s more precious, than someone who gives you their presence wholeheartedly.

[hermoonlit-world]

The most precious thing someone can offer to you is their presence, without holding back, without pleading for it.

[hermoonlit-world]

The kind of love that feels like a breath of relief — a quiet exhale where the heart grows lighter and the soul finally rests.

[hermoonlit-world]

The ways I want to be loved;

A crowded room and his eyes never leave mine type of a love, his hands always, Always no matter where no matter who’s around finds its way into mine, words spoken like it’s still those days when we’re yet in the moments of falling into love, eyes that look like there’s no one more important than me, secret notes scrawled in tissues and post its, vulnerable conversations, check in messages, random gifts small but yet big in meanings. I want to be loved in a way that it’s beautiful and when you see it I want to be told “I see the way he looks at you, the way he lights up. He really loves you, you can just see it in his eyes” type of love.

[hermoonlit-world]

One of the most precious gifts I’m carrying into next year; my sonshine ❤️

[hermoonlit-world]

And another year comes to an end, but you’re still a little buried inside my heart.

[hermoonlit-world]

That’s something special about the desi apology I’d like to call it. Truce without really using words to apologize. Regardless of what the problem is, there’s something intimate and beautiful when actions speak the words instead; like your mother making you a cup of coffee after a fight, your husband taking your hand within his, your friend blotting off your smudged mascara, your sister offering you the last bite of a cake, your dad offering you a piece of sliced fruit. There’s so something that’s beautiful in those moments, an action carrying out the apology that words cannot say, deep, profound, emotional.

[hermoonlit-world]

Look at you, holding the everyone’s burden.

But when it comes to you, who does the holding?

[hermoonlit-world]

I write about love, after falling for it. And I think to myself how naive my younger self was to believe love was soft and gentle. Love is ugly, it’s hurt and anger and jealousy all at once. It’s possessive, it’s toxic, it’s selfish. It can consume you and drown you all at once, it can travel through your veins into the depths of your heart and poison you. You can hold it in your palms and bleed, you can carry it in your heart and break. It drinks up all of you, shows you your ugly parts and makes you question every single thing you’ve believed was love. But yet, within all the darkness, it is the comfort of someone’s hands holding you as you fall apart, it is someone’s laughter lighting your heart and bringing smile to your lips.

Love isn’t as beautiful as I believed it to be, but it is something, something to find and live with.

[hermoonlit-world]

One day you’re sitting and dreaming of the picket fence life; love, marriage, family, future. Someone to call your own and love with all your heart, and from that love people that are your own. And everything seems so far away, almost like it’s impossible to reach. And the next you’re living it, living a love, raising your own and it hits you how far in life you’ve come without even realizing it. How the things you used to dream of are the things you’re living through.