Every time you came back to the city, I couldn’t help but wait, hoping for a chance to see you. It wasn’t just that I missed you—it was more like a secret, quiet longing, a feeling I couldn’t quite explain. I always tried to catch a glimpse of you, just a glimpse, as though it could somehow fill the space between us, even if only for a moment.

I would watch you from a distance, as you walked through the streets, so close yet so unreachable. You were like the moon in the night sky: distant, beautiful, and always just out of reach. No matter how much I wanted to, I knew I could never be as close to you as I wished. You were too far, too perfect in your own way.

I often tried to look at you directly, but every time I did, something inside me would freeze. You made me nervous, more nervous than anything else in my life. It wasn’t the kind of nervousness that came from fear, but something deeper, something that twisted in my chest, a yearning I could never quite put to rest. There was an awe in the way you moved through the world, and I was just a spectator, watching from the sidelines. I was always trying to find the courage to approach, to speak to you, but I was always held back by the quiet, unspoken truth that you were just out of my reach.

When you left the city, the feeling only grew. It was as if the moment you disappeared, everything I had been holding inside began to unravel. Each time, I would find myself alone, standing still, watching the night sky as if it might somehow bring you back. At 11:11, without fail, I would make a wish—a wish that, for a moment, I could see you again. Not in any grand way, but just enough to catch a glimpse of you, like I did with the moon.

I knew it was foolish. The moon was a symbol of longing, something that would never be mine, and yet I couldn’t stop myself. I would wish, over and over, hoping that the universe might grant me just one more moment, one more fleeting chance to see you, even though I knew you were too far away.

And so, the cycle continued. You would return, I would wait, and I would watch from afar, wishing for what I could never truly have. Just a glimpse. Just a moment. Like the moon, always distant, always beautiful, and always just beyond my reach.