By Palomi S. Vemala
And I'll love you—I love you from the tree we sit under to the stars we gaze at and beyond to all the celestial beings we've talked about. I'll love you in every breath, in every step I take, and in every blink of the eye. And when we die, our love will still be immortal, passing from one generation's story to another. That way, I can love you forever, even after we die. I'll love you from life and beyond. From life and beyond.
The laughter crept away as they sat quietly, simply existing in each other's presence. They had shared their stories of the time they took over the sky. The sun was gentle today, cradling the world with a soft light. While the moon was as beautiful as ever today, only half of her was seen, but most of her appreciated by the world as the bards praised her beauty and the poets wrote their words about her for the night. They sat together just before she disappeared into the sky as the sun rose in all his glory. Just like all the other nights, they sat next to each other under the giant tree on the soft, green hill. It was older than they could even remember, already present in its mighty stand when they first appeared in the world, and still it stands there, mighty as ever.
The sun shared his stories of what he saw when he took over the day: of the mother who was finally united back with her son from the army—overjoyed that her baby was safe; of the man who searched high and low for his daughter's favourite lost teddy bear—only to find it under her pillow when he sat with her sniffling cries to comfort her; of the old grandmother and her cat; of the lovely couple down the street who recently got married.
The moon talked of how she saw the king finally lie down with his queen—in each other's embrace as they promised each other a better life—and of how the poor child stole from the store again—only to let herself starve as she fed her brother, cursing the world for taking away their mama and papa, promising to herself that she'd keep him safe—and of how another young girl was ripped away from her dreams—wed off to another old man for money—and of how the man drank himself to death—in grief of losing his brother—and of how the maiden welcomed the sea to engulf her body—and of how the little boy gazed at the moon—promising himself to never let himself be weak again.
And, of course, he noticed. Of course, the sun noticed the moon drifting into her thoughts, beating herself up, her knuckles turning paler as she talked herself down yet again. "Hey," he said, holding his hand towards her. "C’mere," holding her in his arms, he pressed her cold body to his warm chest, rubbing soothing circles into her back as she gritted her teeth against her choked-out sobs. Sitting in his embrace, the gentle, warm, glowing light engulfed all of her senses. She stayed right where she was, feeling like she was at home. If, that is, she knew what home was. At least she assumed that was what it really felt like. Warm, safe. She drew a shuddered breath as he held her and spoke. She spoke all of her thoughts—all of her agonies, sorrows, and worries. When she finished speaking, he slowly spoke up, asking her, "How can you not love yourself?"
"And how can I? How can I see everything going on in my presence without doing anything about it and still love myself? How can I sit back and not do anything as the child cries, as the mother mourns, as the father grieves? How can I sit back and not comfort them, telling them that it will be alright? They reach out to me every night, begging me to take them, telling me what consumes them in fire every night, and asking me every night to comfort them, and yet here I am. How can I bring myself to the thought of loving myself when there is so much chaos in this world—everything burning down to ashes, everyone crying, and everyone in fear. How can I, when there are others suffering?
How can I love when love is just a word thrown out so carelessly, said to anyone, and told to everyone? How can I, when married men sleep with other women, telling them that he loves them when just the night before, he kissed his wife's forehead and said that he'd never leave her? How can I believe in love when women fall out of love, going after men with richer statuses? How can I believe when boys who love each other and girls who love each other are torn apart and burned just for being in hopeless love and devotion? They said that the sky and ocean were once great lovers. Now look at them separated. And how can I love?”
He let a few moments pass by, and as he held her tightly, he said, “Then let me love for you.”
She looked up at him and saw his face with full seriousness and giggled, pushing out her two fingers to smooth out his frown. “That doesn’t make sense; how will you love for me?”
“I don’t know, but I will.” He leaned into her touch, and they stayed there for a few minutes until he spoke up, “I will love enough for the both of us. I will love you so much that you don’t need to feel insecure. I will love you enough to push all those thoughts of yourself away. Enough to push the curses away. Let me love you and let me love for you, just as you deserve.” She held his hand, playing with his fingers as she drew mindlessly on his palm. “But it still doesn’t make sense; it’s double the love you’ll ever love. Won’t it be tiring eventually?”
"For you, darling? Never.” He grinned at her, lighting up the entire sky as he held her even tighter, “Just sit back and accept it. Just let the world cup your face gently and accept that it loves you when it says so, because it does, because I do. I love you so much that you can borrow some love for yourself too.” The moonlight intensified as she looked up, a flicker of something akin to hope replacing the despair in her eyes. "But wouldn't that be unfair to you?" she whispered.
The sun's warmth seemed to radiate even stronger. "Love isn't a burden, love is a gift," he replied gently. "And perhaps, by sharing this gift, we can both find solace in the face of the world's sorrow." The moon remained silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the endless expanse of stars. Then, she turned to the sun, a faint smile gracing her lips. "Perhaps you're right," she said softly. "Perhaps together, we can make the night a little less lonely."
As the first rays of dawn painted the sky, they sat together for what felt like an eternity, comfortably in each other's embrace until the sun had to leave and rise for the world to start its work again, rising to go on another day. The world below stirred, repeating its circle of routines, but for the sun and the moon, time was endless. Simply a reminder that a glimmer of hope had ignited, reminding them that even in the darkest of nights, the light of love could endure.
By Palomi S. Vemala
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