#gentlemoonchild

i hope it’s okay that i let you go. even with all these posts about what reuniting would look like, i am saying goodbye. in this version of our lives at least. and i think it’s okay. i hope you’re surrounded by love. i hope you have new friends who you can confide in & call up randomly without any worry. if possible, i hope our friendship stays in your memory as a warm afternoon. the night is here. the moon is out and the sun has gone down. we have reached our horizon. I am thankful for how bright & beautiful it was. thank you.

do you think we’ll be friends again in another life? could we extend ourselves past mistakes & selfishness & ego to meet at what i imagine true safety feels like? i miss you again. i always do. perhaps more these days. can i tell you a secret? i’d happily befriend you again in this life. i would. and i don’t know if it has anything to do with my recent need to find love but i do know that after losing so many people to death, the hard and fast rules i used to hold onto don’t make much sense. i can love you even after feeling hurt. i think i can. because what of all the other moments & years you held me tenderly in our friendship? what happens to all those moments we spent building our own little world full of inside jokes & a shared interest in being the best people we could be together. im sorry my pain spread the way it did. for not forgiving you quickly. i write this here for a reason. because i know that as much as i wish to befriend you again, i won’t. because even as i wish to disregard my own ache, it’s still here. and the wound is big my friend. but how silly is it that even this wound, this giant hurt, i cherish because it came from my love for you. no wonder it still fucking hurts. how can it not?

the librarian recommended some books for me to read & i checked them out bc it always feels nice to read books recommended by others (especially librarians). i thought of you when i spoke to her about the different authors & who she liked most bc i realized i don’t remember who your favorite author is anymore. i still have this vampire book you gifted me for a birthday (or was it navidad?) some years ago and i wonder what kind of book you would gift to someone now? i miss you. how are you? what are you reading? let me know. my dreams are open to you, friend.

i love you. i miss you. i wish we could relearn how to be friends again. but that seems impossible now. i know I know. but i remember your birthday every year and I listen to the music you showed me and the pain isn’t so loud. i really did believe we’d be friends in every reality. maybe we still are in another world. i like to think so. and if our wounds heal, i like to hold onto the hope of meeting you again in this world. i love you. stay safe.

i ! want ! to ! live !

señora in the parking lot of the market beelined it for me to hand me a pamphlet about god & i said thank you as she walked away just as quickly & it was funny because she had to ignore my twin & her husband who were right in front of me to hand me the pamphlet specifically & we all stood for two good seconds in the middle of this parking lot trying not to laugh & then we lost it after my brother in law pointed out how weird that was & so maybe i was identified as the sole one needing saving or salvation or redemption & the only thing we could logically use as a tell sign for being chosen was my shirt that reads, ¿Que es mas punk que la biblioteca publica,” which kills me bc what’s loving libraries gotta do we needing salvation?