Lying in bed at night, I look out the window and watch the sky. It’s almost a full moon so I can see the clouds, my eyes following them as they travel in and out of my line of sight, feeling the weight of fatigue settle on me as I do.
The ceiling fan spins above me and as I feel it beating air against my skin I find myself imagining I am aloft among the clouds, the force of the wind propelling me across the sky.
I decide this feeling’s quite nice.
Tonight I find myself longing for the lustrous moon and her always-moving clouds. Yet when I turn my gaze to the window, for the first time in weeks, a curtain of rain ripples through the street, glowing with the light emitted by the luminous lamps that line the now-glittering road.
It looks thin, as though the rain drops are lighter than they sometimes are, small and soft where others are bulbous and piercing. But a powerful wind pushes the water through the air; little waves rolling through sheets of rain. And I know then that regardless of when the rain stops, it's late, and the cloud cover won't leave until sometime after I've fallen asleep.
I release a quiet sigh, something in my chest deflating, my stomach aching like it hungers for something.
I love the rain. But tonight all I wanted was the moon.
Clouds again tonight, blanketing the sky in their dreary grey, so different from how they are during the day. I love cloudy days, cooling the air and reminding me of cosy things. I just don't like them when they take my stars away.
But at least the cover’s thin, so the moon manages to shine through. Its brilliance is clearly too much for the clouds to take, I muse with a quiet spite. It's a full moon tonight. I think I'd like that were I not having to stand at my window and crane my neck to see it peeking through. I think I'd like the full moon, illuminating sparse clouds and accompanying glinting stars. Sky a brighter blue than most nights.
Tonight, defeat draws a sigh from my lips and resignations makes for heavy bones. My body slumps against the pillows piled at my back and I feel oddly like crying, but I don't. Funny, I wonder when this came to mean so much to me.
Ah well, perhaps tomorrow, I think. Perhaps tomorrow I shall go to bed with the sky clear and be treated to the moon's muted gaze, lulling my restless mind to sleep.
Tonight there are no clouds, which is refreshing, I think. An edging of white is on the horizon, dulled in colour and lacking the movement I crave. I think it's leaving, heading away to other cities outside other windows to drift across other skies.
And above the sky is clear, speckled with a dusting of stars and illuminated by the blinding presence of the moon. It's a full moon again tonight. So I should be pleased. Should be. But the clouds are silent and still. There's no movement, no breeze, not even a whisper. So I think perhaps, that I wanted both the moon and the clouds. The cool beauty of Lady Lunar casting her light on them as they skipped past my window, like a silent film revolving a beautiful image just for me, simply with the purpose of sending me to sleep. Perhaps that makes me greedy, I don't know.
But my point is that I'm disappointed. Again. It's funny how you think you want certain things, but end up finding that you need others more.