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“I’m really not sure where to start here,” Someone whispered into the cool air of the night sky, the beautiful navy horizon looming above them, with the stars shining as bright as ever. They clenched their hands into fists tightly and took a few shaking breaths in and out. Tears threatened to fall but they were so determined to keep them in. After weeks of crying, Aimsey refused to start once again. Not yet.
Looking back towards the moon she took a very deep breath and closed her eyes. She let the tension drain from her shoulders, flowing through her arms and seeping out of her fingertips slowly. She focused until all the tension was released. She still felt wound together, tightly coiled and twisted inside, but she knew she was one step closer to unraveling the knots. With this fact, Aimsey began to speak.
“I thought this would help but now that I’m here it feels so much harder than I thought it would.” She chuckled weakly, it sounded hollow and bitter against the chilled air.
She opened her mouth but choked, her vision drifting from the skyline above to the tower sitting in the distance up ahead. If she looked close enough she could see the outline of a figure sitting on the edge of the top platform. With a frustrated sigh Aimsey closed her eyes and redirected her focus to the moon. She gripped the railing of her treehouse tightly. It was hard to breathe.
“Talking to the moon, haha… I told you once that I talked to the moon when I had troubles, as if it were a comforting friend. You looked at me and said that I didn’t need the moon anymore. That I had you instead.” A weak sob tore its way out of Aimsey’s throat, she shoved it down the best she could. “Well, I don’t have you anymore.”
“So the moon it is, I guess.” Aimsey muttered softly.
No matter how hard she tried to pretend it wasn’t there, she could hear the bitter resentment seeping into every word she spoke. Towards what? At the moment she wouldn’t admit it. But it was callous and cold, and it gave each thought she spoke aloud a sharp tone she wished to rid herself of.
“I wanted to run.” Aimsey admitted into the quiet sky impulsively. Even with only the moon to hear her thoughts she still felt as if the whole world was watching. “I still do. But then she showed up. I don’t think I could leave you twice. Hell, I should say three times, shouldn’t I?” She laughed, hollow regret tingeing the tone.
“I will eventually but, running away was what started this whole mess in the first place, right? …I shouldn’t call your… your death a mess. Anyway, I’m not running this time. It’s pretty shitty of me to only give you what I owed the first time once you’re gone.”
"Then again, you left too. Just- not in the same way." She clenched her fists and swallowed harshly, choking back tears at the memory of what she found just days ago.
Aimsey took a glance behind her. In the centre of the town still sat the pavilion with each flower the town’s members put there. If she thought hard enough she could still remember how it looked when they were all flourishing and healthy, a symbol of their friendship and love for their home. All the flowers had wilted by now, the entire structure obscured by cobwebs and moss.
“Is that the universe's way of saying ‘you were fucked up from the start, why did you even try?’” Aimsey asked aloud, turning back to the moon and gesturing towards the pavilion as she did, as if she truly were speaking to a friend.
“Every flower we planted wilted or rotted away, and everyone disappeared when they needed care the most. Then the entire thing faded away and the Earth grew over it. Like it was always meant to be. That this was always the natural course life would take us through.” She explained to the moon.
“Maybe it was.” She sighed, defeated.
She spent the rest of the night staring into the stars, too tired to continue whispering confessions to the moon. She would do it again tomorrow anyway. She always did. She always found her way back to the sky, staring into the dark abyss with tears in her eyes, alone. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t shake the trembling in her hands or the tight coil of her muscles. Restless and alone, she stared into the night sky.
She stayed there the entire night. She only left once the sun started to peak out into the horizon, slowly rising and switching the hues of the sky. She no longer sought comfort in the gorgeous skyline. Even though the sunrise signified a new day, the reset of the cycle and a chance to begin again, it only trapped Aimsey in the past and served as a reminder of what once was.
They returned to the same spot two weeks later. The bags under stars eyes had grown, the lines of worry increasing in depth, the hunch in stars shoulders worsening by the second. Even with the visible anxiety radiating around star, there was the slightest smile on stars face. Even in the midst of the devastation there was a small sliver of relief.
Xe climbed up the ladder in the treehouse, the shaking in xier hands having died down since the last time xe was here. The land around xem felt strange despite nothing changing in the last few weeks. Xe felt out of place no matter where xe went. Everywhere xe looked felt like a reminder of what should have been and how xe just didn’t fit into what had actually become of it. Embracing a new chapter, xe stared up at the moon and the stars, watching the constellations twinkle so brightly in the dark contrast.
“I’m leaving.” Xe started bluntly before flinching at the accidental callback. “Sorry, didn’t mean to… Yeah.”
“I’m leaving. I said I wouldn’t run, so I didn’t. I stuck it out. Albeit only for two weeks but I stayed nonetheless.” Xe rung xier hands together, fidgeting with xier fingers anxiously.
Xe was still unable to shake the feeling of the world watching xem, all eyes peering through xier soul and picking apart every word xe spoke into the night sky. Maybe it was the guilt. The guilt that lingered with xem no matter how xe tried to relieve xier overactive conscience. Xe still carried the weight of the world and their entire relationship on xier shoulders, burdening xem with the pain of every mistake xe ever made.
“I just can’t bear to see her anymore. We reached a good closing point, I think. She just doesn't understand the severity. She’s you but she doesn’t remember the way we ended, the way we tore it all apart.” Xe mumbled, underlying frustration clear as day.
She was nauseating to be around. It wasn’t her fault, not really, but it didn’t make it any easier. She clung to Aimsey like a leech and sucked out every bit of progress xe made mentally within seconds. Every second that xe came to accept how badly xe had fucked up, accepting what xe had done wrong and willing xemself to move forward, she insisted on telling xem that xe had done nothing wrong at all.
Maybe in another life Aimsey could have stayed. Xe could have listened to every sweet nothing she said and believed in her naivety that nothing had happened. Maybe in another life xe could have lived within the same fantasy as her, ignoring every negative memory or aspect of the world and pretending it was real. Not in this life, though. In this life, Aimsey wouldn’t last a day before cracking, willing xemself back to reality and tearing the whole facade apart. Aimsey was exceptionally human. Sometimes even to a fault. Xe couldn’t live with the knowledge of what was real, knowledge that she didn’t have, and still pretend to live in such a fantasy.
“I thought that staying was the right option, and honestly I think it was, at least for those few weeks. But I know if I stay I’ll never leave. Eventually I’ll become trapped and I’ll never move forward for the rest of my life.” Aimsey confessed.
Xe could imagine the nod of their head, blonde hair slightly bouncing with it, and the remorseful smile they would wear. The moon gave no such reaction but comforted xem all the same.
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning. She’s not exactly happy about it. I,” Xe choked up a bit, hands clenching a bit tighter together as xe breathed deeply to regain control. “I’ve been trying not to think about how I’m just leaving you again. I feel so guilty for leaving.”
Xe could feel every judgmental, burning stare hitting the back of xier head. Sharp glares stabbing into xier chest and spilling blood from xier soul. Xe shuddered yet continued staring at the moon. The glittering, friendly moon. The moon did not judge. The stars did not yell. They only stayed, they stayed the very same no matter what Aimsey confessed. They offered stability and support. They did not waver, their shine never dimming, they only stared back, unmoving in the skyline above.
“And even then I keep thinking of how you were trapped in that fate. That you got stuck here and never left. And I-”
"Would you even want me to leave? To move on?" Xe asked tearfully into the dark night.
It offered no response.
The view from this window wasn’t very good, but if he waited long enough the moon would be visible as it lowered in the sky. It would require staying up to an ungodly hour but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make. He already put this off for long enough. He stayed up watching the sky.
He had been rushing for so long, so just sitting in place was a nice change of pace. The stars shone bright against the dark view, as always, but it never got old. No matter where in the world you were, you could always recognize at least one constellation. Everyone in the world was seeing the same sky. It brought security to Aimsey’s life when he had close to none.
“Hi,” Aimsey started. He paused, unsure of where to begin. There was so much to say yet so little to describe it, forming coherent thoughts difficult at the late hour. “I left. I didn’t really have a plan, I just kinda started walking.”
“You would hate that,” He chuckled. He could already see the look of distress, he could hear the yell of panic asking why he would just walk out like that. He stopped that thought before it could get too out of hand, focusing on a positive memory instead.
“I enjoyed it, honestly, just walking. Didn’t have anywhere to go. I just walked and kept walking.” Aimsey rambled on.
The stars twinkled as usual, gorgeous and glittering high above. The sky was a lighter shade of blue now that it was early morning rather than late night. The stars still shined as bright as they normally do. They looked even prettier with the lighter sky, it’s a shame they seem to disappear once the sun comes out. The moon rolled through the sky as it sank lower into the horizon. It glowed so gorgeously.
“I found a nice town to stay in for a bit. I wasn’t sure if I would find any cities or towns or anything like that, I honestly thought I’d end up camping out in the woods for a while. This one is nice, I think. It’s homely. It’s small and quiet, really peaceful.” Aimsey explained, as if telling a story of a great adventure.
Sometimes he wonders about keeping a journal but he’d probably lose it within a few days. Speaking to himself, or rather to the moon, helps to get everything out. There’s no pressure or commitment. There’s nothing to upkeep, he truly is spilling his life to a friend.
“I came across a few towns, it’s been a few weeks since I left. Everyone has been kind. I’m not sure if I was expecting that.” He explained. The moon listened to his story, the old friend ever so patient. “Kindness isn’t something I thought I would see so much of. I know the world isn’t wonderful, we’ve seen it first hand, but it’s kinder than I thought it would be. I think that’s beautiful.”
Aimsey paused. He often does. The night sky is comforting and stable yet he still feels a reluctance to be open, even without response admitting to faults is terrifying. Sitting to acknowledge his feelings makes them real and Aimsey has been running for so long. But he needs to admit all of it. He cannot keep quiet any longer, he cannot run forever.
“I’m not sure I deserve this kindness,” Aimsey whispered, no louder than the thin wisps of the wind, his voice cracking softly.
Tears stung behind eyelids, fear welling up into little pools that fell graciously onto his cheeks, splashing slightly before rolling smoothly down and creating a track.
“I left you. And you left me. I feel like I deserve to rot away and be punished by the world for everything that happened but they keep coming back with kindness. And I can’t revel in this kindness knowing who I am,” Aimsey spoke, rough and desperate, tears continuing down their paths.
He paused for a moment. Recognition flashing before his eyes, he backtracked.
“Do I even know who I am?” He asked.
He felt small and cowardly compared to the bold light of the bright sky. He wasn’t sure if he was truly comparing himself to the moon or to her.
Either way, the moon offered no response. Just as always.
Maybe that was for the better.
It was all a little too familiar. Aimsey sat atop their treehouse, starting into the dark, midnight sky, watching the moon slowly roll through the horizon. The stars looked the same as they always did, beautiful and bright. It all felt so similar yet so different.
Sitting within the walls of Daisy Hollow, Aimsey had come a long way. Admittedly they had stalled, just as last time, but they had accomplished a lot in that time. A new home, new friends, new goals and new sights. They had grown so much in such little time.
Aimsey grasped a photograph tightly in their hands. It showed them and Guqqie, sitting together in the old SMP. They could still remember the exact moment it was taken, how at peace they had felt with Guqqie sitting in front of them. They could feel her laugh reverberate through their chest. Even with all the bitter regret they felt, nothing would taint the memory of her smile.
“I have hated myself,” Aimsey started, voice clear this time in comparison to all their other talks. “Since the moment I left; because I didn’t get to tell you everything I felt for you. Everything I still feel for you.”
“And now I may never get the chance.” Aimsey’s voice cracked softly, yet this time it was taken in stride. Rather than a flinch they only reacted with a glance downwards away from the moon. This was no longer a sign of weakness but a show of validated emotion.
“And I miss you every day.”
And despite everything, despite the longing in their voice, despite the sadness of their words, they smiled softly. It was less harsh or forced than it used to be, there was true admiration finally flowing through the walls built up in their mind. It was still bitter. It was still tinged with resentment and longing, but those emotions were no longer blocking the fondness they still held in their heart.
“But,” They continued. “I know you chose your own ending to the story. And I hate you for it, but I-” They took a breath.
“Well, I can’t hate you for it. You, you- you were hurting and I hurt you.” They began to ramble a bit. They glanced downwards and stared at the photograph in their hands for a moment. Memories floated through their head, shining like projections in front of their eyes. The good and the bad intertwined.
They shook themself out of the moment.
“I just wish I could look at you and tell you everything . And just tell you- just, how much I miss you.” They sighed out.
They stared at the moon long and hard, admiring how it seemed to shine brighter tonight. Maybe they envisioned it, maybe it was true. Either way, the moon twinkled and Aimsey cracked a wondrous smile towards it.
As the moon sank lower into the horizon and the sun began to peak through the clouds, Aimsey no longer felt trapped like they once had. The sunrise had always been their thing together. Now, watching the sky shift to those pastel hues, they felt like a weight had been taken off of their shoulders.
“I’m getting better, y'know? I’ve been accepting everything that went on,” They spoke aloud, gazing up excitedly at the sky.
“I’m healing. And I know you would be proud of me, even on days where I feel like you shouldn’t. That you wouldn’t.” Aimsey kept a firm gaze on the horizon, on the rising sun.
“Because even though you hated me in the moment that I left, I know you would be proud that I’m finally, y’know, ‘belonging somewhere’. Finally!” Aimsey chuckled softly. They kept a bittersweet smile painted delicately across their face.
“Oh! Y’know, I finally built the cafe we always wanted! I even named a coffee after you,” Aimsey spoke excitedly, arms waving to point out the cafe that sat just a few feet away.
Sweet memories of hidden expressions and dramatic reactions to different coffee flavours sat in the back of their mind. Times where Guqqie put Aimsey first, times where she sat through it all to make them happy, to spend time with them.
The smile started to slip from their face, ever so slightly, until it became a sullen expression with glassy eyes and a tight lipped grimace.
With a sigh, Aimsey relaxed. They looked around Daisy Hollow, at everything they had built around themself, and perked up.
“It’s okay.” Aimsey finally said to the sky.
“I’m okay,” They corrected to what they really meant. Nothing was truly okay, nothing that happened between them could ever be referred to as ‘okay’, but Aimsey was finally okay.
“I’m healing. I’m- it’s time to move on. I hope you’re okay too, some way or somehow.” With a glance down to the photograph then back to the skyline, Aimsey smiled kindly and climbed down the ladder to their treehouse.
Pausing halfway, they looked back to the sky.
“I’ll always belong with you, but maybe I could belong here too.”
And if that same night, Aimsey looked up one final time to see a shooting star flash through the dark sky and shed a final tear; no one would know except the two of them.