Cobwebs On The Moon

Cobwebs on the moon

Cobwebs on my heart;

Solitary soul

Asteroids apart.

There's no place to sleep on the moon - and I don't just mean because of the perpetual bombardment of meteorites from space. You'd think with all this room and huge craters there'd be some spot safe and secure. But there is none.

I am the last one. Everyone else moved on back to Earth. I swore I'd never go back to that raging, filthy hellhole so here I am to the bitter end. Once the others packed up and shipped out I realized my duties for survival had increased several fold. Not a lot of natural resources here in case you hadn't noticed.

The food garden needed tending on a daily basis. Maintenance on the solar panels, constant repair of our lunar igloo, the list goes on and on. At first, it was overwhelming and I almost slipped into oblivion in gradual decay. Why bother if this is all there is to life? What's the point of anything? I don't even have a cat.

But as I lay rotting on my cot I started to think how it would look after they found me dead. I'd be mocked as a stubborn loser who quickly gave up and perished like a flower in the dark. Like they aren't a bunch of fuckers! Look at your own planet and tell me it isn't what you made it! There's no law of nature that mandates you fuck the whole thing up.

Still, I couldn't stomach the smart ass remarks ringing in my ears so I force fed myself the chores, bending my will and harnessing my desires into nothing but a focused energy for survival. Let me tell you, it aged me and burdened me with a heavy weariness. But I kept on, like a man in the desert with his drooping eyes staring ever ahead till he found his way out. And then, I hit the end of the road.

Like an Iraqi surge, what appeared on the outside as a success was in a reality a doubling down of my stupidity, channeling internal resources best used elsewhere than my ill gotten gains. In the fury of activity my mind escaped the loneliness and despair normally hounding me in this hollow space station. But sooner or later you have to come up for air, to breathe, to want to live. That happened to me in the early morning hours when my soul reached out in undeniable passion as I dreamt of the departed Kathryn and all her delightful charms.

Now I was trapped. In order to stay alive I had to maintain the unsustainable pace of the chores of survival. But the very things I did to stay alive were crushing me further into misery, making me want to die. I had moments of terrifying blackness bordering on madness. I thought I could breathe underwater, hold my breath forever, but once that spell was snapped the demons came rushing from their cages onto the landscape of my life leaving me no place to go.

That's why there's no good place to sleep on the moon. You're always on the run. Who am I? Where can I go? What can I do? I was pitchforked day and night. A tsunami of rage built in a slow crescendo eventually overtaking me. But I couldn't aim at me. I needed to blame someone else. I blamed on those who left me, especially Kathryn with whom I failed to communicate. I wrote them a letter, definitely meaning to send:

"This is not working out. Why would you ever think it would being apart from you? How could you possibly think I could be OK? I'm drowning here, this is hell. I had no idea life could be this bad. But hey, don't listen to anything I say. Just make up your own damn story like always. Wouldn't want to fucking inconvenience your little self-pity trip!

"I have to die to prove I need you, don't I? Otherwise, surely I'm tripping the night fantastic frolicking through the moon daisies. Is that what you tell yourself? Don't you have any idea I can't keep this up? The sheer logistics of living alone are too much and the clock is ticking! I need the sustenance of your face just to keep getting up in the morning.

"I know. I should have thought of this before I made this insane choice. Both staying and leaving seemed equally doomed! If only you had needed me. For that I would have gone in the mouth of hell - and come out alive. How precious some things are. I'm a fool. I deserve to die. But I want to live. Just surviving is not surviving, after all. There has to be more. Fuckers."

My bloodshot eyes hit the button to send. Would it even be read or simply deleted upon receipt? I could hear them now. "Oh, he's fine. Pay no attention. Probably just feeling his oats with no place to sow. So what if he's a little cranky? Serves him right!" Always a way to turn a blind eye. I was to be another casualty in the war between truth and lies. My own lies and deceptions had put me here. I can only wither.

*****

When the space shuttle landed at first I thought I was dreaming. Then fear gripped me like never before. What had I said now? Oh, why did I hit that send button? They've come to finish me off and I've no defense! How can I face them? Kathryn will come storming off there waving my note in her hand ready to take her pound of flesh, but I had not even an ounce left.

They were calling for me. Like a script from a nightmare a search was instituted and I heard Kathryn's voice among them. If I could have hit a button to vanish from the universe at that moment I'd have done it without hesitation. Oh, what a cruel God to crucify me like this! Better I had died alone. When they finally found me, I resisted.

Like a petulant child I stood before them, lovely Kathryn approaching me in what was sure to be an unsurvivable rebuke, the hour of my fate had come. My body shook into a mild shock when she hugged me. I checked my back for a neatly placed knife. That sunny smile of hers melted me. I dropped to my knees. "I never knew," I sobbed. "I never knew..."

We drank and talked, walking through the gardens of life I'd always dreamed of. She said I looked like shit and that they got here just in time. Guess I had decayed more than I noticed on the outside. I was just glad to see she realized I hadn't been making it up. Hard to speak up when you think no one will believe you. I don't understand why so many other times my honest feelings were denied. But this time someone listened.

But to stay on this high I would have to leave. There would be no guarantee of continued time with the wonderful Kathryn back on Earth where she must return. I'd be taking my chances. I vacillated. What a sorry creature is Man. With the uncertainty of life before me, the certainty of death now seemed a lost security. To hide in death or be revealed in life, that was the question. I told her I needed to sleep on it.