Moonlight

New moons are always hard. When you have no light to follow, no hand to hold, it’s - you can almost convince yourself there never will be one. And that makes for a long night alone.

I’m not even sure what time it is when I stumble out onto my back steps. I passed the clock in the kitchen, but I couldn’t make out the numbers lit in sickly green through the tears in my eyes.

I hit the bottom step and fling out a hand to grab onto the rail, bending over and letting out a gasping sob. The cold November air is sharp in my lungs, making it even harder to breath.

Once I recover slightly, I curse myself. What made me think I could handle going in her room? It was too much. And at the same time.. too little. I had stepped in, wide eyed. Searching, maybe. For the feeling of her presence. But it was just empty. I mean, everything was in its place, unmoved. There was still a cup on her bed stand, still a sweater hanging up on her closet ready to be worn for the millionth time. Her blankets were still a messy nest, unmade and completely lacking any evidence of ever being made. I took another step in, trembling, and then I turned on my heel and sprinted out, desperately trying to outrun the tide of emotions crashing down on me.

So now I’m out here. Because it’s been two months since she died and I still can’t even go in her room.

I just.. I just miss her so much. She’s missing from me, like a vital organ in my chest. A hole. No wonder I can’t breath.

I thought maybe I could go in and, feel closer to her I guess. Because as much as I wish I could, I can’t sleep. Can’t even see her in my dreams. (though that’s always bittersweet)

Before.. well, I was never much of a night person. I like the sun too much. But she appreciated the nights and the potential they hold.

Her room has those glow in the dark stars on her ceiling, crowned by a moon. And so many times we’ve laid side by side on her floor, gazing up at them, talking about everything and nothing. Being at home with each other.

One time, when I asked her - despite having brought up the topic plenty of times before - why she loved the night so much, and she gave me a different answer than usual. Her voice held its trademark enthusiasm, but it was also soft and sincere.

“The potential.. think about it. You can hardly see the moon during the day, but at night. It’s the brightest thing in the sky. So I guess it’s when I feel the brightest too. It feels like anything can happen.”

I sink down to sit on the bottom stair, panic ebbing and leaving my body weak with the force of my grief. I wipe my tears away, looking out into the grass of my backyard, bordered by trees weaved with shadows.

The moon is looking back.

I blink, frozen. No, not the moon. An.. an owl? It blinks slowly at me. It’s perched on the ground, and something is struggling in its talons. A mouse, maybe. It must have just caught it in front of me. But then why is it still here? Aren’t wild animals afraid of humans?

It doesn’t look afraid.

A memory tickles at me, of a time I was at a zoo with her and we peered into an exhibit holding an owl that looked like this - a barn owl. It was a small thing, hunched over in a corner and looking at us balefully. But she had loved it, talking about what a cool creature it was, how owls can fly completely silently, and how can you not love something that has a heart shaped face??

This one is different somehow. Its face is intensely bright white, round and huge. Its eyes are locked on me, but utterly calm.

It seems silly that I would mistake a bird for the moon, but if any creature could resemble it, it would be this one.

I know logically that this is a barn owl in front of me, but I can’t help but think it’s also.. more. It reminds me of her, and not just because of the zoo trip. Before, when I walked in her room, it just ached with the absence of her presence. This owl feels like the opposite of that. I don’t even feel cold now. Just somehow.. comforted.

It bows its head slowly at me, and then it jumps joyfully back into the night sky. I stare in that direction even long after I've lost sight of it, mouth hanging open.

I touch my hand slowly to my heart. A smile comes to my face, an unfamiliar sensation these days. “Thank you..” I murmur, because inexplicably, I feel like I’ve been given something. That this was only meant to be seen by me, that the intentional way that owl had behaved wasn’t imagined.

Was it even an owl at all?

I decide not to question it. Maybe it’s true that anything can happen at night. I stand up, taking one last look up at the sky.

Maybe.. I don’t have to be alone with this. I know Soren is inside, probably still awake, and they’ve told me time and time again that I can always come to them about this. I always think to myself, how can someone else handle my grief, if I can’t even stand under the weight of it? But I think that’s not the point. It’s just letting the pain be seen, no matter how raw it is.

She’s gone, but in that moment the hole in my chest hurts a little less. I head inside - I don’t have to be alone tonight.