I Love Like The Moon (And You Should Too)

I have loved in the wildest of ways.

I have loved like a starving child, desperately clinging to an absent father’s momentary affection.

Hungry hands gripped onto carefully-planted good mornings, clutching at empty promises like they were sent down from heaven and blessed with holy water.

I told tales of toads who kissed like men, fitting my own head for a crown that was plated in lies, praying for anything-ever-afters at the end of each chapter.

But I loved.

I have loved like a protective lioness, claiming my space in a man’s life and making sure no other would dare come near my turf.

To cross this line meant war. And I would hunt down rats on the pages of the book with faces so I could know exactly what they smelled like when they came close enough.

Any trace of betrayal made my back arch, hair raise, mouth pine for the taste of blood.

But I loved.

I have loved like a naughty temptress, taking only the warmth of his touch and fleeing immediately after for there was nothing left to desire when I was done.

Time was never wasted, I claimed the flesh I craved. Some fell for eyes-wide lust, others rose three days later, crying out that they had died and gone to heaven.

Proof of innocence was cotton whites on cold floors, sweat-stained sheets, limp muscles. It was always my favourite mistake.

But I loved.

I have loved like a slow pour of pinot noir, dripping out leisurely, filling up cups to the brim. Taken in sip by sip, I aroused palates, leaving heads spinning the morning after.

It’s easy to get drunk on a love like this but no one ever remembers what really happened. Even half-finished, waiting for another night, I always felt empty inside.

Maybe it’s because I would pour out everything I was, only to be discarded to a bin meant for a broken wasteland.

But I loved.

I have loved like a gallant warrior, committed to the cause, climbing over walls, protecting frightened souls from bigger battles.

Cities crowded with pain became mine to fix, ridding famine from arteries where joy was meant to pump through. He was scared, but I stood strong. He was vulnerable, but I stood strong. He was loving, and I stood strong.

They just don’t tell you the kings of hearts sometimes steal all the glory despite a warrior’s bravery.

But I loved.

I have loved when I was needy, jealous, lustful, desperate, and selfless.

But of all the wild ways that I have loved, nothing compared to the day that I loved like the moon.

Gracefully rising into darkness, realizing this was always the best time to learn to shine. I knew I was on to something when I could light up the night’s sky with my own affection. And when spirit animals howled back in reverence.

Even when I waxed and waned, shape-shifting from full to empty, labelling myself new again, I saw an ocean bursting with worthiness staring back at me.

Those waves, they taught me how to dance, to fully embrace my celestial body. And so I twirled slowly at my own pace, leaving wondrous eyes fixated on how I moved with steady, centered conviction.

Sometimes, goodbyes came as quickly as good mornings. But it felt good to leave those days behind, to stand in solitude, to become the one source of warmth during life’s dimmest hours.

It also felt good to give my glow in doses, finally sharing my whole beaming heart with the one who could see that even in the darkest of nights, I am still a bright light. I will always be a bright light.

And oh, how I love.

I have loved in the wildest of ways. And this is what I now know— when you’ve tried it all and the love you desire keeps escaping you, turn inward and love like the moon. She will show you how to embody love, and that is the only kind of love that will forever keep you full.

Sweet soul, that’s because you are love. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Kelly Brown is a poet and writer, originating from Montreal.

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