"Would you be the moon or the sun?" he asks me, his eyes cold. I pause, then smile.

"I would be the moon."

...

I would be the moon because no one grows tired of the moon. All my imperfections hidden in the darkness, only my beauty is brought to the light. I lie in a ocean of stars, silence, and matter, no one in sight to hurt me. Your judgement day will fall upon you before mine does.

The people do not need to play the part of the strong or weak in presence of me — they may reveal their trueselves in front of me. Whether that be confident, shy, or just plain insane.

I have a lover who I will always encircle. The sun will never leave me, neither will my dear friends who follow me. They are unable to, just as I am unable to leave them.

I have no gender. I am neither female nor male. Stereotypes will never apply to me because I am one of a kind. I, far, far away from all things humane. Fifty years to two hundred years of life, that will never compare to me and my surroundings.

What a spectacle I would be, when the sun and I connect. Black and white, orange and red. What a beauty, they would think. What a damn beauty.

So, darling. I would be the moon, because most importantly, I would be free from you.