There, Artemis stood before me. Lights were beaming at her, and a sea of people surrounded her, yet she stood out the most. She demonstrated the beauty of a god. Her beauty took me by surprise, incapacitating my mind; she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, yet she felt like the moon—the moon that I tried to reach out to, but it was impossible to get to; we were worlds apart. I watched her fade into the crowd; I was scared to reach out, feel her touch, hear her voice, and look at her in the eyes. I was solidified; I stayed in my place, watching as I missed every opportunity to reach her—my mind scattered, unable to think; my heart beating ever so fast, unable to breathe; my hands twitching, unable to reach her; my legs trembling, too uncertain to move. A thousand words formed in my mind, but none made it to my lips—what would I have said, anyway? That she was the moon to my midnight sky? It was too late now—she was gone.