I should have asked to become a traveller, just as I asked for these lights above me. Orange, yellow, yellow, orange, still. I should have asked for faith and daring. I should have opened my mouth and asked. I was halfway there when the brightness tampered with my senses, distracting me, making me turn my head, away, turning my head away. The visible world was too intense, and I could not bear to look at you even as I kissed you hard on the lips. The visible world was nowhere to be seen as you pressed against me, forcing out the scarce remains of sound and vision, and I instead gained access to your body, your mind, your physical colours. You wrote on the palm of my hand, “I am a ghost,” and though I would not believe you, I knew it to be true. The wind tore through my jacket as I breathed you in, down into my lungs, to hold on to you. “Just hold my hands,” you said, but the touch was the touch of an arctic winter, and I felt my ribs cave in, shrinking, as my heart began to freeze. I felt weak, as weak as the month I lay dying when I was a child with the fire burning through me as passionate as anything I have ever felt, and I knew this to be the weakness I had been searching for ever since; the weakness to restore my balance. I let you lead me, as I have always followed my heart no matter who was occupying it, and you spun me around, orange, yellow, yellow, orange, until my mind gave up and everything became a blur. I felt light-headed, the Earth’s grip on me fainting, my arms spread out and my toes the only part of me keeping me connected with what I had so far known as the entirety of existence. I rose towards the sky, defying gravity the way trees do. I felt as if you had chosen me just as I was starting to disappear, but from all the things I felt, I could sense no fear, no denial as to what was coming. I heard your voice inside me again, “it’s akin to growing, really,” and I let go. I simply let go, my toes rising from the ground as the brightness overwhelmed me once more, “to the Moon and beyond, dear.” It was a whisper, I could even hear your wet lips touching as you said it, a sound too delicate for human ears. I was halfway gone, but I would not let you go, even if that meant holding my breath until I too became a ghost. I felt the photons of light shoot through me in waves, orange, yellow, yellow, orange, as you pulled me up, and with every wave I could feel them cut deeper into my skin. I was halfway gone, but I was halfway there.