I would go to the movies with a guy I dated and as we were leaving, I would notice the moon. I would comment about it and he would just say, “Huh” or “That’s nice,” as I looked in wonderment.

During one of these moments where I stood in amazement at the moon, I howled at it after being encouraged earlier in the evening by one of my neighbors to do so. I normally wouldn’t do this as I’m one of the most restrained, internalized people you will ever meet, but I had spent the previous evening in the ER and I didn’t care what I did that day, I just wanted to feel alive and normal.

I was driving home from a potluck tonight when I noticed an orange moon hanging above Lake Michigan. As I drove up Lincoln Memorial Drive, I kept hunting for a place to park so I could pull over and look at the moon. I found a spot, parked my car, and jumped out. I kept running around the beach, noticing how perfectly the moon was reflected on the lake. I didn’t care about how sand kept filling my ballet flats or how the lake wind kept whipping around my skirt or that it was pitch black outside.

As I stood looking at the moon, I thought about my neighbor who had previously encouraged me to howl at the moon told me on Thursday night at a full moon celebration to stay until I saw the moon. I made excuses–I wanted to do some writing, I had to work in the morning–as I continued walking to my car. The moon I was looking at tonight was exactly the one I wanted to see, exactly how I wanted to see it.

I had a perfect view of the moon, illuminating the night as I stood there feeling at peace as I heard the waves of Lake Michigan lap against the sand.