I Had a Moment

It was night.
I got out of the car, walked over the craggy driveway stones, and put my hands on my knees like some used up wet dish rag.
I just stood there. Thinking.
But something told me to look up. Some weird itch crawling around in the back of my exhausted and emotionally unstable brain. So I did, and I saw the moon.
Bright. Blinding, even. The rays hit me like some sort of intangible freight train.
I breathed through my mouth.
The moon's glow crawled down my throat, dug into my ears, overwhelmed my eyes, and... I changed.
I forgot about everything.
About school.
About the useless jerks I'm surrounded by.
About my plans.
About girls.
About my parents.
About what was for dinner.
About the people I love.
About my best friend.
About an itch on the bottom of my chin.
I forgot about everything, and just stood there like an idiot staring up at the big white orb floating around in the sky. Then, my mind emptied. All I thought was whiteness, that of the moon, and black three words floating and immobile. I closed my eyes and thought one thing.
Life is bliss.