From the Moon and Stars

Dear Dark Night, 

You don’t give yourself the credit you deserve. Sunshine, for some reason, equates to happiness (they call it “sunniness”) in the world we live in. People crave light. People see themselves in the daylight. It reassures their insecure selves.

How powerful you must be, dark night, for you make me feel beautiful when I cannot see myself, by only whispering into my head what I look like to you. You make me feel like magic.

Dear Dark Night,

You’ve taught me to make sense of the mess I am to create the matchless constellations that fascinate people so. 

Dear Dark Night,

Thank you for teaching me that sometimes it’s okay not to shine. And that never should the sun’s shining make me feel unimportant or irrelevant. I have to come back graceful, brighter, and more divine and know that I’m worth everything when the sun isn’t.

Dear Dark Night, 

Thank you for knowing to summon the clouds for me to hide behind whenever I needed. And for convincing me I must come back each time, because I am needed.

Dear Dark Night,

Thank you for coaxing me out of my retreat every time my flickering threatened to die out. I’m so lucky I can be confident that our love means you would be dull in my absence. Your sky would be less well-lit. I couldn’t ever do that to you.

Dear Dark Night,

You’re always there when I am, and I am ever so grateful for that. Your constant presence in my life comforts when I feel lonely, for you ensure that I’m never really alone.

Dear Dark Night,

Never doubt that you’re beautiful. Exquisite. Truly denightful. Never feel like no one sees you. You are not an absence. You are not a substitute for the sunshine when it needs to rest. You are irreplaceable and capable of things I, and everyone else, can only depend on you for.

Dear Dark Night,

You are, after all, what makes the moon and stars worth looking at.

Love,

Your Moon and Stars.