In the month's past, we at last did meet. I asked myself, what am I, but a second choice that seeks to be thy foremost? Or can I be more than such?
To meet thee feels akin to the moon's gentle glow on a somber eve. I do not shun it, though aware of the impending pain. Yet the pain does not arise from the moon's presence, but from the uncertainty within us.
Thou didst entreat me to stay, yet knowest thou the struggle of lingering as a mayhap not the first choice? I am torn betwixt savoring the ache that might accompany thy continued presence or granting thee the primacy. I know thy reasons, and despite being neglected afore, I elect to trust thee.
If in the end thou dost not choose me as thy primary, what meaning has it for me? I shall depart, and thou mayest stay beside another. As for me, what fate awaits, I know not. Does my presence bring significance or merely add sorrow to thy luminous life?
Thou oft declarest lack of full trust in committing thy heart, hence thou dost seek opportunities elsewhere. How then shall I put my trust in thee? Nevertheless, I act out of volition and affection, not solely for thy sake, but also for the moon that yearns to shine fully in thy existence.
How feels it to be someone yearning to be the chief? Or to conceal someone's presence behind the moon's glow? 'Tis painful, is it not? Yet, who bears the greater suffering, I or thou?
I declare, let us seek a path together beneath the moon's radiance. Wilt thou undertake this endeavor, or wouldst thou rather remain in darkness, replete with uncertainty?