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1. New Moon
It starts with the soggy darkness. Its dampness clings to your skin. Rain in your eyes. Rain in your hair. The water drips all the way down to your shoes, somehow turning red before it trickles off the edges of the stage. For all your knowledge of color theory, you cannot explain this end result. Strangely, your lips feel like the warmest part of you. The hand still outstretched in front of you might be too, if only it still felt like yours. They taught you about solar eclipses once. The moon in between the Sun and the Earth. The orange flare of the gun. His heart in the path of the bullet towards your heart. All the light in the world dies with the sound of his voice.
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2. Waxing Crescent
Your eyes open just a sliver. There are people screaming your name, but none of them know to stretch the lonely vowel in the middle like one would the jaws of a child. Like his. Like him. But he won't call for you. Not anymore. He only stares, a head taller than most in the room. Like always. His smile curves into a crescent, but this time, it turns in the wrong direction. Nothing but a burden, hmm? Through all your younger years, his joy left puncture wounds on the ends of his lips. Those little craters, which you liked to trace when he pretended to nap by your side. Now, without any pretences, you are left facing the biggest one of them all.
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3. First Quarter
From this angle, you can only see part of his face. It’s familiar. In front of the starstruck audience, the spotlight once cloaked half of him. The other half covered in sweeping black. Indistinguishable from the shadows creeping into the corners of your vision. Through the blood clogging your ears, you could hear his muffled singing. The vibrations from that painful melody, making your head throb harder. How many times did he hum you out of your sleep in this manner? His lips, hovering over your swollen cheeks. His breath, grazing your bruises. The lilting rhythm emerging from his bobbing throat. Embracing the two of you like the sea. By the time you woke up, he was already on the other side of the room. Quiet. Like now. He doesn’t ask if it hurts. Why would he? He never has.
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4. Waxing Gibbous
You kept finding him waiting in the same position at the foot of your bed. Holding the torch under his chin. There was no element of surprise. Still, you screamed a little too loudly. Because he laughed. Because it made him laugh. All the ghosts of your past wear those same crinkled eyes. They grab your hand and ask you to run away with them into the night. The red lights in the sky must still be twinkling as they were long ago. Right out of a nursery rhyme. None of them can grant a single wish of yours. Still, you put your fingers in the gaps between his, which have not yet stopped trembling. Scared? he asks as he used to do, eyebrows raised. For once, you nod. It doesn’t stop you from following him again.
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5. Full Moon
He’s dressed in all white again. He’s always dressed in clear white. The color of ash. The color of snow. The color of the uniforms at Anakt Garden. The color of the suit they put him in the last time you saw him. The color of the wall on which you once traced his silhouette, realizing how much bigger than yours it had become. He just kept finding new ways to leave you far behind, didn’t he? Maybe you should never have taught him how to hang off the monkey bars. Maybe you should never have taught him how to hold a fork. Maybe you should never have taught him how to tie his laces. Maybe you should never have taught him the difference between a C major and a C minor. Maybe then he would have never known how to proceed to the next note. Maybe then he would have never known where to go.
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6. Waning Gibbous
You never find him waiting in the same position at the foot of your bed. Some nights, his head only comes up to your hips, snuggling into your side. On other nights, he is able to rest his chin on your shoulder, digging into your bone. You have long learned to welcome these little aches. The falling stars you long abandoned cannot be counted on anymore. As the older one, you have to be the one to bear the weight of his young dreams, infinitesimal as they are. Never having gotten the chance to grow up. Like him. Will you show me how to play that note again? Will you, oh will you, give me your slice of cake? I can't believe you got to taste real chocolate before I did. Is that really how my nose looks? Can't you draw me a little softer, like you do the butterflies and their flowers? Pat him on the head, now that you can finally reach it without standing on your toes. Wish him a good night. Tuck him to sleep between the pages.
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7. Last Quarter
From this angle, you can’t see part of his face. It’s familiar. You still remember watching him from under the tree back then. The white shirt stretched over his back. Laden with a dozen handprints. In those days, it felt as if everyone could touch him. Everyone but you. On the grass, his long shadow remained intermingled with others, while yours lengthened, all alone. Ivan, you imagined saying, so often. Ivan, let’s go halves or quarters again. On the sweet biscuits they served at dinner. On the stolen eraser. On the fist bumps and missed punches. But you kept chickening out at the last second. Well. This truly is just like the old days, after all. That generous bastard. He really left a whole share of grief for you to finish by yourself.
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8. Waning Crescent
Your eyes close just a sliver. You just can't help it. He is so warm in your arms. He takes up so little space. No struggle. No noise. Even his name, resting on the tip of your tongue, turns into silence. Why did it take you so long to notice the shivers running down his spine? He seems so sure in every memory you hold. Tossing the stones into river, watching them bounce at least six or seven times. But his hands are unsteady when he uncurls your fists to place the flattest one in your grasp. Even then, he was giving you the better chances. You still managed to sink them to the bottom. After all, not all rocks are destined for great heights. Not even the thousand ones beside the moon. But every rock in your life that you ever dared to lean on came from him first. It is about time you became one for him.
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9. New Moon
It ends with the soggy darkness. You never know what to do with it. You never know what to do with your body when it is left unburdened by the heaviness of his. All the water in your system rises up to your eyes. It's high tide now. You get ready to wade through it for the rest of your life. But don't worry. It won't stay at this same level forever. Its depth will keep changing with the night. It's okay. Think of how it takes the moon a few extra days to show the same face to the Earth. Because the Earth keeps moving. Think of how even when his footsteps grew longer than yours, he stayed a few steps behind. Following you around the garden. It must be the same. He must still be there. Slow down. Let him catch up to you again. Look up. The moon really does look beautiful tonight, doesn't it? Even when you can't see it.