paradise | letters to Him √

8. butterfly.

You flew away at last. I didn't have the courage to do it first, so I suppose that's what I deserve.

I was so afraid, the fear shaking me to my very core at times. You were ticking time-bomb, a nearing storm that headed straight for me. You were locked in a cage, and I was the jailer, holding tight to the key that could set you free. But free was a relative word for you, you who are not bound to the laws of the universe.

It was only a matter of time.

The trees had regained their leaves that day, the day my world flipped upside-down. You did not pay attention to the birds that built their nests around you, something that fascinated you a lifetime ago. Everything looked so alive, but we were grey on a multi-color canvas.

And that's when you spread your wings.

"Can't you stay, only for a bit?" I asked. For the first time in a long time, I felt the unwanted pressure of the dam inside my head breaking, the water inside threatening to spill out. I was bargaining for more time, just a little more time to figure it out between us. You put your hand on my cheek then, so softly that you felt like the very air around us. That's what you became in the end.

"Goodbye" was the last thing you said to me. You floated away, so gracefully I wondered if gravity was afraid to pull you down, but I realized nothing could pull you down. Not even me.

I am human, just like anyone else. I have desires and needs. I thought I needed you, but as I reflect and spend more time alone, I find that I can find color again. Little by little, the world around me shifted. For better or for worse, I cannot tell yet.

I was desperate. I was desperate for a long time before I met you, living only to exist. I latched onto the first thing that made me feel less desolate, less obsolete in this life of mine. I won't make the same mistake twice.

It was time to let you go, so I did.