The Butterfly and The Moth

34

I didn't quite know how to answer Sterling's words. They seemed heavy, though maybe they shouldn't have been. They were light words, bright words that should be filled with hope.

Strung together, however, they didn't feel light. They felt heavy; there was a certain gravity behind them.

So, I didn't answer him. I only nodded in response, allowing my eyes to drift back to the ocean in front of us. The waves crashed against the shore, their rhythm a constant reminder of the passage of time ticking while Sterling and I stood still. I felt lost in thought, trying to untangle the weight of Sterling's words in my mind.

He said we could fly together. I wasn't sure what to make of that. Sure, right now, maybe we were outside in the sun. And sure, right now, maybe he was flying. I don't think I was flying, though. I felt like, maybe, I was underneath the waves I was looking at. I wasn't sure if I was drowning, or just desperately trying to put out the fire that I was sure still engulfed me.

As I gazed out at the endless expanse of blue, I couldn't help but wonder if there was some deeper meaning to it all. Was there a purpose to our existence, or were we simply adrift in an endless sea of uncertainty? Was there a reason for the way life seemed to shun me, to take from me and to give to others?

The waves seemed to whisper their secrets to me, but I couldn't decipher their language. I turned to Sterling, hoping to find some answers in his eyes, but all I saw was a reflection of my own confusion.

We stood there in silence for what felt like hours, lost in our own thoughts. The weight of Sterling's words still hung heavily in the air, taunting me with their ambiguity.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice soft and hesitant. "Dahlia, I know things are hard, but I just meant was that you're not alone right now."

His words were like a life raft in the ocean, offering me a glimmer of hope and a way out of my thoughts.

"I think I'm always alone," I shrugged, "maybe I'm destined to be alone."

"I don't believe that," he answered me, and I could feel the way he stepped closer to me. "I don't think you do, either."

"Maybe. Maybe there was a time I thought I could crawl my way out of the hole I was left in," I explained, though perhaps I didn't explain it quite well enough.

You see, I never dug this hole. I didn't shovel the dirt away, leaving somewhere for myself to fall in. This hole was already here. I was left in this hole.

And I never really saw a way out, until I moved to Sapphire Cove. I was embarrassed by the hope I felt. That hope wasn't real. That hope was the light that drew me in, the only light I had seen in my starless night. It was the trap.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way," I sighed, slightly surprised by the way my brain was allowing me to tell Sterling my thoughts.

He didn't answer, but he was close enough beside me that I could feel the way his breath slightly stalled.

"This isn't how it was supposed to be," I rephrased my thought, finally turning back towards him. He was staring at me in a way that made me feel like I was see through. All the lies, all the bullshit. He couldn't see them.

"I know," he answered me, and I watched his grey eyes behind his slow blinks.

"I wish I could go back," I told him, and we both knew that this time, my words were nothing but the truth.

"I know," he assured me, nodding like it was a confirmation that it would be the easiest way to have prevented this. "I wish we could go back, too."

I felt the sincerity in Sterling's words, just like I had when he was speaking about August. I knew that just like he would really trade places with August, if he could, that he really would turn back time for me. If he could.