A Letter to the Moon

Dear Moon,

Normally I wouldn’t write you, because the postage would just be monumental. But I haven’t seen you out and about lately, so I almost feel obliged to talk with you. Is it because of those pesky clouds are always stealing the spotlight? Or is it that you’ve been pretty shy lately, waiting for the opportunity to really shine?

Speaking of shine, you look breathtakingly bright tonight. I would be stumbling and fumbling around, lost in the darkness, but with that aura, you can be my protector, my flashlight. The way that you look at me, I lose sight of all of the rest of the stars in the sky. Tonight, it’s just you and I, staring across a 240,000 mile canyon of emptiness between us.

I’ve always wondered this though. You must have been asked to play the messenger between two people who love each other, but are separated by distance. Do you actually relay their thoughts the other person, or are you there to merely reflect them like you do sunlight? When I am talking to someone on the phone, I always feel closer to a person if I’m gazing at you at the same time. How do you do it? I’m mystified by how if two people are looking at you, you bring them closer together.

I hope you will divulge me some of your tricks; I'll be here, watching you, admiring you.

Sincerely,

Steve

The Pianist's Letter

The lights are off. A young man is alone, in a soundproof room, sitting calmly in front of a grand piano. Everything is silent now. It didn't used to be this way. There used to be music pouring out from the piano. There used to be someone who sat with him. As he tries to hum a tune to himself, he keeps time with his heartbeat. His hands reach out to play something, but his mind tells them otherwise. As he pulls the rebellious pair back, he looks around the room again. On the side of the varnished wooden piano bench, there sits a little chair. As he reminiscences, a soft sigh is all that is heard echoing through the room.

His hands finally take over while his mind is distracted, and a slow, somber melody leaks out. It may have been from some romance movie, or perhaps it was some top 40 song 10 years ago. At this point, it doesn't matter. His mind is a blank, trying to find an image of that someone. Suddenly, he stops playing. He pulls out a sheet of blank paper and scribbles something down, and leaves it on the piano stand. Upon closer examination, it reads:

Hello there, friend.

By the time you read this, I may have gone far, far away. In that case, I am sorry that I will probably never get to say this to you in person. Do you know how much I think about, worry about, care about you? You may be aware or unaware, but it's true. I am a coward; I hide behind my music. What I don't tell you when I am with you, I pour into my music, in this little sound proof room. What is sad now, is that my piano doesn't want to be the messenger anymore. It refuses to play what I mean to say to you. Perhaps another time, where I can spend all the time in the world with you, I'll muster up whatever courage I need to tell you how I really feel. Circumstance has prevented this from happening sooner, and I guess the cowardice continues by me writing you this letter.

I am happy that you are picking up piano again, since that is probably the only way you'll ever get to see this letter. When you play, this piano will spill all of its secrets, my secrets, to you. You'll be able to see what I see; my world will become yours. You probably won't ever be able to return or share the feelings I've stored in this piano, but that's perfectly fine. I am more than happy to take a backseat, and lend a secret helping hand, behind the scenes, like the set crew of a musical production, of which you are the star.

Take care, friend. You should know where and how to find me.

Yours,

The Pianist

Dear Friend

It's certainly been a while since I last got to see you.

What would I do without you?

I just wanted to take the time to say thank you, for being there, friend.

You are always a call or text away; even though we live so far apart, you'll always let me know if you're stopping by near my room. I'm so grateful we've taken time to get to know each other so much more, we're a lot more alike than I originally thought! We can talk literally for hours, and I don't mind putting those hours aside just for you. To be perfectly honest, I don't know if there is anything we can't talk about, our experiences seem to mesh very similarly; it makes for a great support system.

I know you've talked me through some hard times, and you know I'm more than willing to do the same for you. Your good news makes me happier; your bad news makes me sadder than any equivalents in my own life. The level of understanding that we have between us is most likely something no one else can quite grasp or ever experience; it's almost like it's imaginary, too good to be real...

I'm so thankful that I know you, friend; you are irreplaceable in my mind, my heart, and my prayers.

You are a blessing in my life.

Yours,

Friend