Short Stories from the Teenage Mind

Selenophilia

It was winter and it was cold, barely dinner time, and already dark as an abyss. But still, it was calm, almost as though the physical chill couldn't touch the warmth inside my bones. It was all in my head, really. The idea of love is a psychological mechanism we evolved for... survival. A chemical reaction. Even so, I couldn't help but think of her. Crystal eyes, fair, soft skin, small lips, and a voice of honey.

Stop it, stop, I had pleaded with myself, to no avail, You lovesick idiot, it's all in your head! And yet, when I saw her, standing on the sidewalk, staring at the treetops, all logic fled my senses. Instead, my awareness focused on the small details: the way her breath billowed in the cold, how her shoulders folded in on herself, shielding her body, and the glossy auburn hair I wanted so badly to run my fingers through, rippled quietly in the uneven breeze. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful, gazing up at the stars. I dared not disturb her. Yet, I couldn't help but move closer. Before I knew it, we were side by side, marveling at the heavens.

"I can't remember the last time I really looked at the sky." The words had come so naturally, I hadn't realized I uttered them until she responded.

"I don't know of anything quite as beautiful... maybe, perhaps, the sea? But, I suppose you can't truly and fairly compare such similar forces of nature." Her voice was airy and light, starstruck by the universe above us. She glanced for a moment back at me, "I don't believe opposites are really that different. If their personalities oppose and defy one another, the repelling characteristics are of the same components; a vast ocean, an endless sky, two worlds virtually unknown to man and science."

"Science will eventually find answers to everything. That much I believe in," I stated.

She looked back to the atmosphere, at the constellations, as if she were trying to decipher their stories. "And is that all? Nothing else, like faith, humanity, love? If science is truly the answer, and will eventually solve the impossible equation, the beauty of the mystery will be stolen. The art behind the unknown."

Her words struck something deep within me. Would I want to know everything to come and everything that's come before? Would I be prepared for the truth? Should I just live in the moment and see the beauty how it is?

"I wish there were a word for this," I thought aloud, gazing at the full moon. "A word as beautiful as the act."

"Selenophilia."

I looked at the woman beside me in interest.

"Noun. Loving the moon and finding it soothingly captivating."

Such a word was fitting. I looked back to the heavens above and smiled. "You learn something new every day."