Tonight I howled at the moon.
My beloved roommate and I went outside after a fierce thunderstorm chewed up the humidity and washed all the clouds out of the sky. And there she was: a gorgeous full moon, bright as the candle we held and twice as beautiful. I always liked the moon more than the sun. I liked the mystery of a bright light in all that dark sky, casting blue shadows and cool light. Don't get me wrong, I love the sun too, but the moon and I have always been closer; kindred spirits of earth and sky.
Forgive my waxing rhapsodic this evening, but moon howls always do that to me. Must be the lycanthrope in me. I grew up loving monster movies. My childhood crushes weren't on teenage heartthrobs or handsome leading men, but on Lon Chaney Jr.'s Wolfman and Bernie the Talking Skull on Friday night Creature Feature. There's a reason for the title of my book FREAK, haha! I am, unabashedly, a freak. I never wanted to be normal, I never wanted to blend in. I just wanted to be accepted. I didn't help in the establishment of my own alienation. Anybody who cuts up their mom's fur coat so they can create werewolf Barbie isn't going to fit in no matter how hard they try. Or gain brownie points with their mom. But it's important to be yourself. To value what you were born with. So go on out there, my friends, and howl at your own particular moon, whether it be in the sky or in your heart of hearts. Be true to you, be faithful to what you are, and even more important, what you can become. Because you can become anything. You can do anything. The faith of a mustard seed can move mountains. It's true. I was once too shattered by my own self-loathing and poisonous relationships to believe in anything but grey misery. Now I leap and dance in the moonlight, giddy with the incomparable joy of being alive. You can find it too. The Joy of Living. Now go scamper...preferably with a big fat grin.