🌙 The Woman and the Moon: A Love Story in Phases
The First Glance
On her heaviest nights, when the weight of the world pressed against her chest, she tilted her head toward the sky.
And there it was. The moon.
It didn’t speak, didn’t move, didn’t try to fix her—but it stayed. Silent. Constant. Watching.
In its pale glow, she felt seen in a way the world never managed to see her. The moon did not demand that she always shine, always smile, always be whole. It understood the language of phases, of coming and going, of light and shadow.
And so began their secret love story—the woman and the moon.
The Waning Woman
When her energy slipped away, when she felt like she was shrinking, dissolving into pieces, the moon mirrored her perfectly.
As the moon waned, so did she. Her voice grew softer, her presence dimmer, her heart carrying the quiet ache of release.
To anyone else, it might have looked like weakness. But the moon taught her otherwise. Waning wasn’t failing—it was letting go. It was clearing space for what was yet to come.
The woman pressed her palm to her chest and whispered:
“Even when I am less, I am still enough.”
