Man in the Moon

Time is a spiteful entity. Days are too short. Hours are too long. In a blink of an eye, another year has vanished. A rare moment passes where time seems to have stopped, allowing you to live forever in that one moment. Those are the times to remember; the moments to wait for. It’s times like those that are never forgotten. My life seemed filled with those moments that left me breathless; sitting and watching the clouds go by, a falling star that caught my eye, a goodnight kiss that lingered in the air. Goodbyes are moments like these. Time slows them to stopping, hoping that maybe you would change your mind, that maybe you wouldn’t make the asinine mistake of saying goodbye. It seems we rarely listen to Mother Time. I wonder if that’s why she’s such a bitch.

It was a hazy morning, the sun was almost finished rising and the dew was fading into the air. I could feel it was one of those days, the kind that crawled by hoping you wouldn’t make that mistake. The summer days had faded and September finally showed its face. Today was my last day in Newburyport. The sea breeze slipped through my curtains as I dressed for the day; a rugged pair of corduroy pants and a hooded sweatshirt that smelled like James. He would be the first and last person I’d see, he was the one Time would stop for.

The green truck he loved so much pulled into my driveway. He let himself in through the screen door I always left open and found me in the kitchen. He had one hand in the pocket of his favorite threadbare jeans, I watched the other brush his dark hair out of his eyes; they were blue today.

“Good morning.”

I smiled and slipped my arms around his waist. I offered him coffee that he gladly accepted and picked up my feminist newspaper I enjoyed to make him read.

“Anything interesting in there?”

“Never.”

I finished reading an article about world leaders’ suppression of women’s rights and found it only vaguely important on a day like today. Another breeze slipped into the house, it was beautiful out.

“Do you want to go to the seaside?” I asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I was waiting for you to ask.”

I was captivated by his crooked smile. We spent our entire summer at the docks watching the waves wash onto shore. His hands were always so warm, even when the wind picked up. One night we made a bonfire on the sand and fell asleep under the stars. The seaside was where our relationship was born and today I would make it our final resting place. The wind carried a morbid scent as we drove away, it smelled of sadness.

The small town streets were just beginning to open; the road belonged to only us. I rolled down my window and stuck my bare feet out into the air. James captured my hand as a Mick Jagger song came on the radio, he hummed the guitar in the background and I tapped my toes in the breeze.

It was noon by the time the crashing waves came into view. The salty smell of the New England coast floated through the car. Julie’s Diner was on the right as we turned a corner. James pulled into a parking spot outside the door; he didn’t even have to ask.

Julie brought us a pair of vanilla cokes with a smile. She always seemed to smell of mangoes, it reminded me of the islands I always wanted to visit. I was going to miss this place. James and I scrunched the straw wrappers and artfully dribbled a single drop of coke onto them, watching them grow. James ordered a hamburger and onion rings and I got the clam chowder. The steam filled my nose with memories. It was the first meal James had cooked for me. He had surprised me with dinner in my backyard on the fourth of July. We played with sparklers and watched the town fireworks display from a picnic blanket. That night lasted forever; we fell asleep just before the sun rose.

James pulled out a tarnished key that I easily recognized.

“You still have that key?” I asked eyes wide.

He flashed a telling smile and I replied with one of my own. It had been so long since we had been to the lighthouse. We left some extra cash and a few shiny pennies on the table before we continued up the road, wind in our hair.
It was almost three when the lighthouse rose on the horizon; the sun was high in the sky and the breeze had died down slightly. James parked a few miles away and we began down the familiar dirt path. We linked fingers as my head seemed to fit perfectly on his shoulder. When we were younger, we imagined the trees to be enchanted and in the summer, when the leaves were full and green, the sunlight that seeped through was fairy dust. We would play for hours; me in my pink miniskirt and wings, him in his black cloak with a tree branch wand. Red and gold leaves now laced the path we had marked out those many years ago, the magic was fading.

When we came upon the gate, James unlocked it with that rusty key and it creaked open. The lighthouse was our magical castle, where time had always lasted forever and reality fell away. James led me up the winding staircase like a princess and carried me across the threshold like a bride. The view was always breathtaking, but this time I felt a tear stain my cheek. The wind quickly brushed it away.

James clasped his hands around my waist and I felt safe, his lips brushed my neck and the world seemed to stop. I wished I could stay here, in his arms, forever. Time was beginning to dwindle as the sun slowly began to fade under the horizon. Twinkling stars started to appear through the dark shroud of sky that now cloaked Newburyport. The moon was full and glowed brightly silver. The first time we watched the moon rise here it was full and the man in the moon was clear. Tonight he was smiling down on us again, bidding me a final farewell.

“We’ll still have the moon,” James whispered. “He will always be smiling.”

And at that moment the nighttime sky was perfect, adorned only by our moon and his fellow stars. I blinked away a tear as a falling star sparkled. James always told me they were spaceships returning to earth and loved to create stories of their journeys across time and space.

“Don’t go.”

I looked into his eyes, now the color of the night sky, and couldn’t form the words. Too many years had passed to form the right words to say to someone you had loved your entire life. His kiss left me breathless and his tears have never hurt so much. His thumb routinely wiped away another droplet.

“You are the moon,” I whispered.

And there we were, frozen in time, my one chance to take it all back. In a single breath it was gone and time ticked on. That moment that seemed only a breath had lasted half the night and that tear that seemed to take eternity to fall slipped away with a blink of an eye.

I watched him walk away, down the many steps and through the darkness of our memories. Most nights I see the moon rise from my new backyard and know that James is watching the same moon, our moon. I left my heart in that lighthouse.