I Don’t Know Why
Funny how life works, huh? One minute, I’m just sitting by a lake in the middle of the night, hands in my pockets, waiting for the sky to do something magical. And then—
She’s there...
Time slows. The noise fades. And for some fucked-up reason, my heart decides to do this stupid little skip, like it knows something I don’t.
Not walking up, not calling my name—just there. Like a shadow in the reflection of the water, like she’s always belonged in this exact moment. Like the universe didn’t just align the moon tonight, but aligned the two of us, too.
And damn, maybe that’s the kind of thought I shouldn’t entertain.
Maybe it’s just the quiet, the stillness, the way the super blue moon turns everything silver and surreal.
The lake doesn’t just reflect the moon—it holds it. Like a secret it’s been keeping for centuries. And tonight, it’s holding us too.
But tell that to my heartbeat. Because my chest? It sure as hell isn’t staying quiet. Except everything else does. And I fucking know it.
Feels Like a ‘Yes’ Even Before I Know Her Name
Maybe it’s the way the moonlight catches in her eyes, turning them into galaxies. Maybe it’s the way the water reflects both of us, side by side, like the night itself is trying to tell a story.
Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the way my mind is already writing an ending before the moment even begins.
And the craziest part?
Idgaf if it makes sense.
I try to play it cool, act like this isn’t getting under my skin, like I’m not already f*cking invested. But deep down? I know damn well this night just rewrote something inside me.
And let’s be real—I’m fucked.
Because how the hell do I go back to normal after this? How do I pretend like this is just another midnight, just another moon, just another passing moment?
Time’s a Bitch, But Maybe, Just Maybe—This Isn’t
The night is slipping away. The lake is still, like it’s holding its breath. But neither of us want to move.
I could sit here, talk until three, let the world outside rot for all I care.
The world feels smaller, quieter, as if the universe itself is pausing to watch whatever the hell is happening between us.
Because for once, it doesn’t fucking matter.
She doesn’t say much. Neither do I. But somehow, the silence is loud as fuck, and yet—somewhere in the back of my mind, there’s a voice whispering—
What if this is just a moment?
What if she walks away and never looks back?
What if I’m the only one feeling this?
But then—she looks at me. Not just at me, but through me.
She smiles, and suddenly, it’s like she sees everything I’m afraid to say. And in that one glance, every doubt, every hesitation, every “what if?” in my head goes quiet.
The silence between us isn’t empty.
It’s full of all the words we’re too scared to say. Because for the first time in a long time—I don’t want to overthink this.
What the Hell Happens Next?
Do I leave this night as it is? Let it be this untouchable, perfect thing that never has to face reality? Or do I risk everything and try to make it real?
Because that’s the thing about moments like this. They either become everything—or they fade into nothing.
One text away from becoming a memory. One call away from rewriting my whole goddamn story.
I tell myself I’m being ridiculous. That it’s just the moonlight, the reflection in the water, the late-night haze making everything feel bigger than it really is.
But fuck that—
This isn’t just some late-night bullshit my brain made up. This is real as fuck, and I’d be a fucking idiot to pretend otherwise.
So why the hell am I still sitting here, hesitating? No fucking way!
So Here’s to the Nights That Don’t Feel Real
To the hands we hold too tight. The moments we’re afraid to let go. To the risks that make no sense—but feel like the only right thing. To the lakes that keep our secrets. The reflections that tell us the truth, even when we’re not ready to see it. To the moments that feel like fate—and scare the shit out of us. To the way she made me forget how to breathe for half a second.
To the way I just knew...
And to the ones who make me think, for the first time in a long time—
Maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to wake up from this. Uhm… I don’t want to be just friends.
So tell me—Do I hold on, or do I let this night slip through my fingers? Do I text her, or do I let the night stay as it was?
Because some stories? They only get written when I fucking write them.
Maybe every moment like this has already happened before. Maybe we’re just playing out a story the universe wrote a long time ago. Or maybe fate isn’t real. Maybe we just make shit up to justify the people we can’t let go of...
I refuse to let this be the one that gets away.
And maybe—just maybe—when the next super blue moon comes around, over the next dozen years…
She’ll still be here, w/ me...
A tribute to the rare brilliance of the Super Blue Moon, illuminating the heavens on the night of Thursday, August 31, 2023 at 13:32:57 UTC ✨