My most painful and happiest nights tend to be during Autumn and Winter, for their nights only grow longer. I have ached at cruel fates and cried at beautiful moments.
I'm the Moon that settles every night, and I will share three stories that I have seen even on the days when I didn't seem like I was there.
It was a long, cold night. Snowing a lot, every one hid in the comfort of their home with no sound in the entire neighborhood, except for that one house that had a deafening sound of breaking hearts.
She rang the bell a couple of times, shivering in the cold, eager to be in the warmth of her loved one.
Few seconds later, he opens the door, and her smile grew until she noticed the look on his face, and the mess on his hair. He closes the door by the time she gets in and hangs her coat on the hanger.
Concern rushes over her when she asks, "What's wrong?"
His only answer was pacing back and forth for a while before he suddenly stopped. Clutching his hands together, his mouth opens and closes constantly, but says nothing.
"I must leave." He said, his gaze never meeting hers.
Confusion drawn all over her face, she asks, "Leave? Leave where?"
Silence settled between them before realization hits her. And in that moment, the pain was all too familiar for her. This isn't his first time, but it always scares her it will be the last time. Memories of all the time he left come back at once, hitting her. The memory of him promising it wouldn't happen again hits her the most.
"You always do this, you always do." She said, barely more than a whisper. He tried reaching out to her, but she took a step back. She already started gathering her stuff, almost by the door, when he calls out for her.
"Don't go. Please, don't go." He pleads.
She stops in her tracks. Hope fills him, until she turns around, and the look in her eyes drank every bit of hope he had.
"Why? Why shouldn't I be the one leaving this time? This isn't your first time, and probably not the last one, despite your promises. Empty promises." She throws her hands in frustration. “You think that by coming back every time, you get to win me over again? Love, you only lose me. Every single time you came back, you were only losing me more and more. And I'm done playing games with you. You're like this heart disease and I can't get to cure myself from you."
Pain flashed all over his face.
"It's different this time, I-"
"How," she cuts him off, "Is this different from all the times before you have left? It's basically you getting into one of your phases and then leaving for God knows how long without thinking, not even for a second, about how I would feel. It's just so unfair." She cries.
He could see the tears streaming down her face, while she didn't seem to notice them due to how furious she is. He didn't notice the amount of pain he brought her, but now he can see how it is making the distance growing between them. Loss for words, even hope, he stayed silent as he thought, I have hurt her too much, how did I not see that?
"I get it." He tells her.
"If you want to walk out of here, and not return back. I have done enough damage. I... I suffered for too long, and I have dragged you down along."
Acknowledging the tears, she wipes them away. She takes a deep breath then lets out a long sigh. "I'm going to return back home for the night. We can continue this talk later, when you're thinking straight and I'm calmer."
He doesn't stop her when she grabs her coat from the hanger. He doesn't stop her when she leaves and closes the door behind her. He doesn't stop her when she turns on the engine. He doesn't stop her when she drives away from his block, when she drives away from the neighborhood, when a driving drunk man crashes into her car. He doesn't stop her when she flies out of the car, so far from the car, and falls down, bleeding, until the falling snow becomes her only cover.
He doesn't stop her, not when he doesn't know there won't be a talk later.
"Sam, get in the car, we don't want to be late!"
"I'm coming, Mom!" He cries in return. He turns around to wave, "Bye, Dad. See you in few hours." But his father didn't glance at him. Running to the car, he jumps into the backseat as his mom closes the door after him. She gets into the driver seat and plucks in her seatbelt. She glances at the rearview mirror to check if Sam got his own seatbelt plucked, but empty seat reflected in return. Panic rushes through her by the time she twists around in her seat just to find him in his own, seatbelt plucked. Staring at him for a while, Sam asks, "What?"
Opening and closing her mouth, she finally let out, "Nothing...," She shakes her head, "Nothing, sweetie." When she regains her focus, she starts the engine, and drives off.
They were moving away to a smaller city, only few hours away from their former home. The family has only planned it last week, and by the weekend, by some luck, they already found the perfect house, and they were ready to move after a week. The mother decided she'll head there before her husband only by few hours.
After midnight, Sam and his mother have already arrived by the house. The neighborhood was very tranquil, the stars out for the past hours, and the full Moon watching over everyone.
The mother shuts off the engine, leaves the car, picks up a sleeping Sam, then makes her way to their new house. It was identical to every other house in the block, newly painted and not too big with a backyard wider than their old house.
Sam will be very happy to play here, she thought.
Few days ago, her husband visited the house to drop off some of their boxed belongings. When she unlocks the door and enters the house, she finds them on the side along with an unpacked couch in the corner. She walks over to it to put down Sam gently, making sure not to disturb the child's sleep.
The watch on her left wrist informed her that it was 1:37 AM. Surprisingly, tiredness has not consumed her, and her husband won't be arriving too late after them. So, she decides to unpack some of the boxes and rest till he makes his way to their new house.
After unpacking few boxes, her focus is interrupted by the sound of a car parking outside the house. Few seconds passed by, the door opens and it was no one, but her husband entering.
Carrying bags, he lifts them and says, "I found a small diner on my way, thought you'd be hungry."
Smiling, she replies, "Very."
There was no dining table, so on the floor they sat as they consumed their late dinner. The house was settled in a comfortable silent for a while, until the mother hears a movement behind her. She turns around to find Sam awake.
"Hey, sweetie. Are you hungry?" She asks her child.
"What?" The husband looks up, but the wife isn't looking at him. He follows her gaze, and it was only the empty couch he has left unpacked when he came here few days ago.
"I'm not talking to you." She replies without turning to him.
"Who are you speaking to, then?" He asks slowly.
Her attention goes to her husband, confusion covering her face, "Sam, of course."
He looks back at the couch, but it was empty as it was few seconds ago. His wife averts her attention to something behind her. Something he cannot see.
"Honey..." He pauses. "There's no one."
"Don't act silly."
He could tell she was serious from her tone. He puts his hand above hers, holds it tightly. She looks at him as he says softly, "Honey, there's no one. There's no Sam."
She pulls her hand back fast, "I don't like your dumb jokes."
"This isn't one of my jokes. Sam isn't here."
"How can you not see him? He is just right here." She snaps, then points her finger behind her.
His eyes follow where her finger is pointed, and despite the emptiness, he nods his head, "Yeah, he is right there. I can see him."
But he couldn't see him. There was no one in sight, except for him and his wife on the floor. His wife didn’t seem to believe that there were only two people in this house. However, she shortly discovers the next day, when her husband makes an appointment with a therapist, that there was no Sam. There hasn't been a Sam for almost three weeks. Sam has been gone since he drowned in a pool, and she has been in denial since then. In that moment, though, she believed that there were three people in this house.