Love You To Life ✓

His Moon

After Lillith's confession, I couldn't really look her in the face. It did kinda suck, but I just didn't feel the same way. She was without a doubt a beautiful girl, but I couldn't bring myself to be in a committed relationship with her. Or anyone for that matter, at that time. I wasn't a player or anything like that, but I didn't feel like investing so much time and effort into something, when I could get it without any big fuss. Without commitment.

I believe Ruth and I had watched every available documentary about the moon-landing. I was starting to get bored, but Ruth was soaking it all up like a sponge.

I lazily layed next to her, staring at the TV, thinking about how I could write a book on this topic by now. A fucking bestseller even.

I stole a glance of Ruth with heavy eyelids, catching myself admiring her profile in the flickering lights of the television.

"The moon-landing was no hoax, right?" she then asked, turning her head to the side to look at me.

I shrugged, "You should ask Ethan when he's back from the library."

"That's just rubbish," she said determinedly.

I smiled, but she didn't see it.

I had decided, that maybe she was my moon. I never told her that, and I still regret that to this day.

Something that would always be here, even if I wouldn't see it. Something that left me in amazement. Every time. Something that couldn't leave my universe without changing every aspect of life. Something that makes living possible. Something that illuminates the darkness without robbing it of its beauty, but making it even more stunning. Something that made my problems feel so insignificant every time I looked at it. Making my chest feel light.

My eyey fell on the penguin on her stomach, that I had bought her.

"What's his name?" I asked her.

She looked at it, "It is a she, and she remains nameless."

I furrowed my eyebrows in an amused manner, "Why?"

"I think that is very creative of me, don't you think? Anyone could think of a name, but it takes a special kind of creativity to think of no name."

"You couldn't think of a name?" I simply asked.

"Nope."

I chuckled at her goofy grin.

When Ethan returned, he told us that he had gathered up information about Ruth's past. Leave it to my best friend to go to a library when you have a computer in your room, which has access to the internet.

"Please hold my hand," Ruth told me, as she sat cross-legged on my bed with the penguin in her lap, looking nervously at Ethan.

I squeezed it a bit to reassure her.

Ethan told us that her family lived in the basement of another family and that she was found dead in a lake near their house, after being reported missing for five days. Her hands and legs had been tied together with a rope.

Even now thinking about it makes me want to break everything in my reach.

"So it was homicide?" I found myself asking.

"Yes, but no one was convicted of murder, because of... well, white supremacy at that time," Ethan sighed.

"Who murdered me, and why?"

A tear rolled down her cheek, and I swear it felt like a kick in the guts.

"I- I don't know," he shook his head. "They didn't publish more information about your case."

"You still can't remeber?" I asked her softly, rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand.

She slowly shook her head.

"Well, maybe it's better that way," Ethan said, voicing my thoughts.

That night she fell asleep in my arms, telling me that I was her home. Her life.