I sometimes wonder if we're more like moons or suns. Whether we burn with our own fire, or simply reflect. I think maybe both. It’s good to reflect. To have a part in the revelation to the world of something huge and great and … exploding. And it’s good to have a little of that burning inside you at the same time. That internal combustion. That spark of the divine. That something that is ever blazing and flaming, but not consumed... we kindle, dimly, and mirror. And, softly glowing moons that we are, we're ceaselessly striving to be stars. Suns. To catch more of the fire. To be more largely ignited. To have more light and warmth to discharge into the universe...
And I’m in the midst of a realization that, for myself, and likely for us all, I possess a measure of both. But here’s the thing. I’m pretty sure that I’m only either one or the other with people. To most, probably, I’m more of a moon, a dim reflection. But there are those with whom I’m more able to burn. Except with you. You’re the only one I know with whom I can be both. Sometimes even simultaneously and to an undiminished capacity.
Which is, I suppose, an unabashedly selfish reason for my loving you. That you’re a perfect and infinitely adaptable sky. And it’s not the only reason, to be sure. But it’s an undeniable one.