Dear Mothman: A Novel in Verse

by Robin Gow

Mothman is a cryptid, which is different from a mythical creature, because mythical creatures are made-up, but cryptids are real—they’re just hard to see.

Lewis was sure you were queer like us. If you’re not, that is OK too. I just want to know you’re there.

All I can think of anymore is Lewis. Lewis loved to see veins of light pulse across the sky. He was never afraid. I am not like him. I am afraid of lightning and thunder and the dark woods and even a little bit of the thought you could be real

I was in a really big zoologist phase then.

I’m sorry if this is too much all at once. When I start learning about something sometimes I just get so excited and my brain keeps running and running and running—exploding with questions. It’s something I love about being autistic. Can Mothmen be autistic?

Don’t think of my questions as needing answers. Sometimes you just need to make a question a question.

I wish I had a brother sometimes. Me and you could be honorary brothers if you are lonely and need someone.

I guess I wanted to try something on my own for once. I would do anything to have Lewis tell me one of his ideas again.

When Mom woke me up that night and led me down to the living room sofa to tell me Lewis was in a car crash and that he was not all right I hoped he would be a ghost. I looked for him in our favorite spots but I never found him. If Lewis isn’t a ghost then no one would be. That’s why I don’t really think I believe in ghosts.

I wonder if Mothman feels like he lost Lewis too.

Dusk comes like a bowl of sherbet— all orange and pink and sweet.

I know it sounds scary to meet someone you’ve never met before, but I’ll even bring you a snack.

There is no one left I can pretend to be a boy with now other than you. When does pretending end? Am I a boy because I wish I was? Really, I want to be a boy with Lewis. I’m wondering what it would mean to be a boy without him.

No one listens to kids or monsters.

Thanks for being my friend and for always opening the journal each night. Sometimes it feels like the only thing I can count on.

Still, I felt better to not be doing the looking alone.

I’m not trying to replace him but I know you understand what it might be like to never have people get you.

Hanna asked, “Are you a boy then?” I said, “I like to be sometimes.” They said, “That’s so cool!” and “That makes so much sense.” And, Mothman, it was the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel so alone.

I hope you have people who make you feel less alone. If you don’t I can be that for you.

I just kept thinking I love feeling like a real person around my friends and how they trust me and how I wish Lewis could have known Molly and Alice and Hanna better and how they’re all so kind and how I want to find you—I want to.

On top of that, I’m worried how much I like to be Noah. I don’t want anyone to call me “Nora” anymore because of like how happy it makes me feel when I hear “Noah,” “Noah,” “Noah.”

Your fellow “monster,” Noah

Lewis used to be the only one to say my name and it feels weird but also sooo good to keep telling people my real name.

I think of all the reasons people hide: You might be scared or maybe you don’t know how people will react or maybe you know you won’t be understood or you’re ashamed. Then, I guess also people hide if they’ve done something wrong. I think sometimes that I am doing something wrong but I know that’s just because I don’t know anyone else who’s like me now that Lewis is gone. Are you hiding?

like if I could I would really want to try life in a different realm.

Sometimes I feel lost, like I ended up in the wrong time line.

Sometimes I feel like ever since Lewis died I’ve been a different person. It’s scary sometimes. I’m glad that you’re still here though, through everything.

I’m not supposed to feel scared of you, Mothman. I’m sorry.

It’s not that I didn’t believe. I just didn’t expect it all to happen tonight.

Time moves really really fast. I think about first grade, and in first grade time moved slower— like everything was so exciting all the time.

I don’t think I believe in soul mates because if I did then it wouldn’t make sense for me to like Hanna when I also used to like Lewis like that but maybe there are like soul connections—lots of people you’re meant to meet.

I wish Lewis were here so we could live through the not-easy together.

Mrs. Almond pauses and then nods. “Noah? All right, Noah. Do you want different . . . pronouns?” “Yes,” I say, very quietly because I know it’s true. It is what I want. It’s just scary. What if people don’t believe me like they don’t believe in Mothman?

Do you miss any of the places you used to live? Sometimes I miss my life before Lewis died. It feels like a place I used to live.

“Sometimes I feel like a monster too.” I like Hanna a lot for saying that. I have been thinking about it all day about how maybe it’s OK to be a monster after Hanna and I talked.

I feel that way mostly when like no one understands me but you. The survey makes me feel like that— like why am I trying to convince people to understand you if they just don’t get it?

Why is being a person so hard sometimes?

I keep getting sad and thinking “Maybe it would be easier to not have friends at all.” Then I’m like—no, Noah. You love your friends. This is just hard.

Mom asks me what’s wrong and I tell her that none of my friends like me and that it’s all my fault. I know that’s not true but sometimes I don’t believe anyone would want to be around me.

I avoided talking about school yesterday because I was crying so much. Mom and Dad just said we could talk about it tomorrow. Today is tomorrow. Ugh. I hate how that happens.

I think about all the little knots in my life I want to untie. I feel like a knotted-up person.

Have you ever felt “OK”? I don’t know what that would mean anymore.

Maybe, when you have this journal, you can set it by your head when you sleep and it can remind you how wonderful you are and that a boy named Noah and his friend Lewis always understand you even when the world doesn’t.

I also wanted to say I’m sorry. I know you both probably wish I could do a normal science fair project or that I had more friends or that I didn’t want to change my name. I understand. I like being weird but sometimes I also wish I was less weird.

Now, sometimes I feel like Lewis is my imaginary friend because no one else talks about him still.

Will I keep changing? Will you keep liking me? I’m worried I like you too much and what will happen if I start to like you less and less as we get older.

We did everything right— where the heck are you, Mothman? Don’t you know that Noah needs you?

It’s not about being right. It’s about proving to everyone that there is so much we still don’t know about the deep beautiful forest and about what it means to be people— to be queer people.

I think I am a boy with or without it so I just have to figure it out,”

Would it be so bad to be devoured by the night— to emerge a monster?