She thinks she'd like to live in a
movie, where the people
suffer through trials and tribulations,
feel extreme sadness,
loss, and subsequently, find true happiness. She wants to feel, she wants to
know that there is more than the nothingness that
consumes her. But, she hasn't told anyone this, and it really doesn't bother her. There is something
comforting in the way the plot of a
romance unfolds, just as there is something
alluring in a
tragic hero. To her, this is all obsolete. She wants nothing more than to feel, to care that she has become little more than
a shadow of her former self. It is unclear to her when she stopped
crying, smiling,
being. All she knows is that she has, and if she were able to, she'd probably be
frightened by this fact. Instead, she sits there,
basking in the glow of the sun, watching leaves budding, the flowers blooming, but it means not a thing to this mere shell of a person. The beauty she once saw in all that is seems so far away, so
distant now. She hasn't said a word since he went away,
not a single word. People say her heart isn't what it used to be, her
days are numbered.. but the truth of the matter is, she doesn't
care. She isn't waiting for death, only for that single moment.. the one that only she knows is coming, it's the one
thing that she can feel.
A tiny butterfly lands on her
knee, and she looks down.. she smiles at it. A
smile.. she places a pale, slender finger beside the creature and feels her heart warm as it steps carefully onto her
tired flesh. For the first time in so very long, she sees
beauty.. the intricate, dazzling patterns on this insect.
An insect.. so much more to her. She sees
him in its tiny little
form. Its wings remind her of the way his
eyelids used to flutter open in the morning.. and its
dainty little legs crawling over her are his fingers, moving
slowly..
tenderly..
lovingly.
It flies away shortly after, and as it goes, she feels something seep from her body and
drift away on the passing breeze. She laughs out loud, startling the day, a lonely blue bird, and
herself.
Sometimes it is the tiniest thing that guides us through a rough time.. and sometimes, all we need is to know that something gone is
always with us, in some way.. maybe even in the
subtle wind created by the gentle
flutter of a butterfly's wings.