Fireflies

Inspiration: Fireflies by Ron Pope

I hold her hand tightly in mine as we walk down the deserted street, me on the sidewalk, her, barefoot, on the soft green that frames it. She carries her heels in her other hand and swings them in time with our steps. I glance at her silhouette in the dim light and smile, looking forward again when she turns to look at me.

When the streets come on and fireflies flicker I am walking her home making plans.

She wears a long skirt that trails behind her on the damp grass, but she doesn't care. "It's only clothes" she had told me. Her dark auburn hair is pulled over her shoulders to one side, her neck visible to me. I resist the urge to kiss it softly and continue walking.

She squeals suddenly and I jump. Her hand is torn from mine as she runs across the field, and twirls around on the green blanket below her. My forehead scrunches is confusion as I watch her, but I smile.

A drop of water hits my brow suddenly, and I understand her excitement.

With her shoes in her hands I am watching her dance, as the hem of her dress gently kisses the grass.

More rain falls upon me as I jog up to her. Her arms are raised from her sides, her hands in the sky, her mouth wide open. She isn't prepared for me when I run up and wrap my arms around her from behind. She squeaks and grabs my arms, laughing as I twirl her around in the rain.

It suddenly rains on us. She is laughing and turns up her hands.

I slow to a stop as the rain patters on us harder and she sighs against my chest.

"I love you," she whispers wistfully. Pain stabs at my heart and I kiss her hair softly.

"I love you."

I sit with my head in my hands late that night out on the small porch of our apartment that overlooks the dark street. What the fuck am I doing? What am I going to do?

I hear the sliding glass door open and my body stiffens.

"Hey," she says quietly. "What are you doing out here, it's so cold." I look up to see her wrapped in my shirt and a blanket. Her hair is a mess and there is still sleep in her eyes.

She's beautiful.

"I needed to think..." I murmur quietly and put my head back in my hands.

I hear her walk closer and feel her sit down next to me. She takes one side of the blanket and wraps it around my body, clad in sleep pants and nothing else.

"What's wrong baby?" she moves a strand of hair away from my forehead and caresses the side of my face.

Like autumn turns leaves, winter will breathe cold on our necks, snow in our paths.

"I'm leaving..." I say quietly. She freezes and snaps her hand away from my face like I burned her.

"You're what?" Her voice cracks.

"I'm... leaving..."

"But... Why?"

"I'm... Sick. Or I have the chance to be sick. And I need help... My father is sending me to Texas for treatment. I'm leaving."

Wherever she goes, all that I know about us...

"No... You can't leave me." She sounds panicked. "You can't... leave me!" she sobs at the end, and I wrap my arms around her, crying softly with her. She grips me tightly while she cries.

"It could only be for a few weeks. Only a few. After each treatment I can come back to visit you. I can come back every two weeks and see you."

Her crying continues.

Is that beautiful things never last, that's why fireflies flash.

After her crying calms, she drags me back to the bed and demands we lay with each other, talking until dawn breaks across the sky.

We walk out onto the deck again, and watch the sun as it rises. My arms wrap around her, my chin on her shoulder.

"I'm pregnant..." she whispers so quietly I almost miss it.

But I don't.

I stiffen immediately.

When this summer time ends, we will not part as friends.

"You... What?"

"I'm. Pregnant." she says again, slower this time, louder. She turns in my arms and stares into my eyes. "I'm pregnant." I smile wide and pick her up.

"You're pregnant..." she nods, smiling as well. "You're... pregnant!" I laugh, and she follows. I pick her up and wrap her legs around my waist, kissing her passionately. "SHE'S PREGNANT!" I scream to the neighborhood when my lips leave hers.

And then I freeze again.

Things were promised in blood; we have sinned.

She's pregnant... And I'm leaving her.

I don't know how long I'll be gone.

The same thought seems to occur to her and her eyes water. We grip each other tightly as the sun finally rises over the horizon.

I stand outside the apartment with my suitcase in my hand and a crying, quivering girl under my arm. My father looks at me with sad eyes from the driver's side. I pack my suitcase into the trunk and pull my girl into the back seat with me.

The drive to the airport is quiet, no one speaking. We sit in the back, staring at one another, kissing occasionally, and holding each other.

When we finally reach the airport my breath leaves me in a big gush.

I hear my father start to go over what I need to do once I leave the car, but I don't listen. I look at her still and watch her start to tear up again.

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you."

Now there's tears in her eyes as she's screaming goodbyes.

I turn to my father and find him watching us, his eyes glimmering. He clears his throat softly, and nods toward the building in front of us. I nod and turn to her again. I kiss her hard once more, and pull roughly away from her, for she won't let me go any other way.

"No," she whimpers. I walk around the back, pull out my bag, and go to her side of the car. I open her door and pull her into my arms. She sobs again as I softly push her back into the car. Closing her door despite her protests, I stand back as the car starts to move.

I run 'long side the car turning numb to the sound.

I watch the care, I watch her until I can't see it anymore.

I notice a chill in the air; September is creeping up fast.

Walking into the building, I can't help but remember how the tears streamed down her face as they drove away. It will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life, no matter what I do. I'll never forget the look in her eyes, the way her lip quivered.

And like autumn turns leaves, winter will breathe cold on our necks. Snow in out paths.

Wherever she goes, all that I know about us, is that beautiful things never last. That's why fireflies flash.

The first part of the plane ride is filled with tears. The older gentleman next to me asks me once if I'm okay, but does not ask again when I whimper and turn away.

The second, with sleep. And dreams. Oh, the dreams. Sweet, sweet dreams. They're filled with her. She consumes all of them.

I dream of the day we met, how she looked, how she looked at me. We were such silly kids. We were two shy highschoolers, a sophomore and a senior, who had a biology project to do together. It wasn't until I was almost gone that I told her how I felt. I told her the day I graduated. She was there for her best friend, my twin sister, Alice. At least, that's what I had thought.

Innocence didn't mean we're immune to these things.

She laughed when I told her I loved her. I instantly felt ridiculous and said I was sorry for wasting her time.

But then, she kissed me.

She had kissed me.

She threw her arms around my neck, and pulled me down to her roughly. She didn't care who saw. She just kissed me with all she had.

I asked her to be my girlfriend that day.

Let's blame the passage of time.

I dream of our first time, only a week after I asked her to be mine.

Some might say it was too early, but it wasn't.

It was us. It was perfect.

Love and loss.

I dream of our first fight. The way I yelled at her. The way she cried. And the sting on my cheek after she slapped me.

We didn't talk for almost a month.

It wasn't until her father came to my house with his gun, telling me his little girl cried herself to sleep every night that I manned up and went over there right away.

Truth.

I dream of our first time having make-up sex. The hot breath, the murmured apologies, the moaning and groaning of the "I love you"s made up for the time lost. The amazing feeling of her body around mine.

And the way she felt afterwards.

It costs more than I can spare right now. Maybe it's simpler to lie.

The sudden shaking of the plane woke me up, and I gripped the arm rests for dear life.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we're experiencing a small amount of turbulence. If you would please return to your seats and buckle in, we would appreciate i-" the speaker crackles as the pilot's voice cuts off.

I look around for a moment and then breathe in deep.

She's not here.

I look at the man next to me, but he is looking at a small photo in his wallet. It looks like a younger version of him, but not very young. He is standing with a woman that looks to be about his age. He wipes his eye swiftly, and puts the picture back in his wallet, looking up at me.

I nod my head at him and look out the window again, tears falling down my cheeks again.

And like autumn turns leaves, winter will breathe cold on our necks. Snow in out paths.

Wherever she goes, all that I know about us, is that beautiful things never last. That's why fireflies flash.