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The moon
He remembers the first time he saw her, ever.
She was the moon, simple as that, soft luscious silver light that rippled through the gloom of his life.
And from that time on he fell into that 'girl from Ipanema' Phase.
He'd watch the most popular, the most desired golden queen S of school from as close as he could, hoping that one day, any day she'd know about him.
Futile.
Since that fateful day, the day they got to know each other properly, that day when he realised that he loved her for real, that he loved her forever, that it wasn't just a mere schoolboy crush, he vowed he'd protect her even if he'd seemingly hurt her.
He vowed he'd look after her, be her warning sign, and be her red light.
He'd make her his, whatever it takes.
He decided to linger as gossip girl for a little bit longer.
Who would have known roles would be reversed later on?
Who would have thought she'd be his only subdue when he'd lose it, when he'd get out of control
The new Serena was no snob, she was simply genuinely, gorgeously human.
Still he was Dubious of her.
Everyone in this god forsaken part of town had an ulterior motive, a filthy hidden agenda.
Yet still, she was the first one in the upper east side who made him feel for the first time that being kind was no crime, the first in constance school to approach him, to let him know she meant no harm, to get him to open up and realise that not everyone in this goddamned school wanted a piece of him, wanted to screw him up.
To say that the whole of New York was adamant against their relationship would be the understatement of the century.
He had doubts raging through his mind; he had uncertainties nagging at him
Yet she was always radiant, always reassuring, she had this look in her eyes, one that told him he was her only concern, he was the one who got to bring up this strong Serena, he was the only one who got to see her vulnerable side, he was the one who made her really Happy.
It was just him and her.
He felt proud,
He felt of worth, of importance to someone, he felt…..alive.
He'd carry this in his heart for as long as he lives, he'd owe her that for good.
Their first breakup was so excruciatingly painful, its pain induced numbness, he was practically a zombie.
Breakups followed through the course of their story together and every time he'd keep telling himself that if she was meant to be his, she'd bounce back to him, they'd find their way to each other.
Yet, It has been so long that He had lost hope they'd ever do.
He wondered if their final union wouldn't come in this life after all.
Serena was his very own personal story, one he'd write about in his heart, one he'd cherish and keep vivid, untainted for as long as he can.
Other versions he published were just cheap imitations, pale in comparison to her, those characters he shared with his readers were just shadows, ghosts.
He doesn't Exhibit the Serena he loves to the world, the Serena who keeps him awake at night is locked in his heart, is soaked in his mind, is the inspiration for his tales that wow the world and leave it awestruck.
His stories are awestricking cause, she is miraculous.
Serena is his own personal Christmas, the one he expects with hope and delight, the one that is always due yet never actually comes for every time they are together, he expects something; he is always on the edge, always on the watch for the impending heartbreak, he is never truly satisfied, he is never truly happy.
Serena is the moon, the one he never sees full, he either sees a crescent or he misses seeing it all along.
Yet when she walks down the stairs, to him, in her golden wedding dress, he knows Christmas is here at last.
He knows he sees better than the moon.
For now he sees the sun.