Butterflies

It’s been 2 years since I saw him. 2 long painful, agonizing years and even though I miss him, I’m still hurting because of him. It is a cold December day but it’s even colder without him. I look down at the butterfly clock he got me and then grip the edge of the dock. I can’t believe he’s gone, after everything we been through. Even though I tell myself I forgotten him, I still long to feel my hands through his warm, chestnut hair, different from my pale blonde hair. I still long to feel his muscles around my waist, keeping my body warm and tight but what I missed of all, oh God, was his lips. His lips that made me feels like I could fly. I feel like going home but I can’t. I feel something wet and salty slip down my cheek as something blue and brown passed by. A butterfly.

I chase it down the docks as I run past families and birds. I have to follow it, I have to. It could be him, it could be him. So I chase it, I chase it through the crowded streets of the city. I somehow find myself running into a coffee shop. It smells of cocoa beams and new hardwood floor. I looked up at all the shocked eyes on me. ”Can I help you madam? Do you want a new fresh cup of coffee?” A waitress asked. Then a flash of blue flutters against the window and I’m after it again. My feet are thumping on the pavement and my breath is juggling. I run right up to the Big Ben and look up to where the butterfly has landed. It’s on the 11 and then it soars away. I take one last glance at the snow covered Big Ben and then I leap away, after it.

I run into a man’s arms on the street. “Excuse me miss,” he asks, “I am a modeling agent and I want you to model for me. I have never seen such pale hair and long legs.” I look over his shoulder and saw the butterfly. It was moved rapid speed now. I pushed past the man with a grunt and race towards the moving blue gleam. I finally have to slow down because my breath is pounding. As I sit on the pavement of the dirty streets, I see a little girl selling lemonade. “Free Lemonade!” she offers loudly. ”Can I have one?” I ask, pointing to the cup. I give her a 4 quarters in exchange for a mini cup. As I finish sipping, she looks up at me and smiles. “What?” I ask. “It went that way.” she points to the right. I look and I see the butterfly. “How did you?” But the little girl was gone, vanished and I felt the thrill rise up into me again, the tiredness gone. I was on the run again. All around me bystanders complained about my presence but I could care less. I am a force of speed.I run so fast I see stars. I see colors. I see flashes back to the night it happened.

“I don’t want you to go out, baby!”

“Jane I told you I’ll be fine!“

“No I don’t believe that you’ll be fine! It’s too wet and it’s too slippery out. The weatherman said it will come a big fog later tonight!”

”I am perfectly, immensely, capable of driving my own car tonight!“

My heart ached at the memory that kept pushing through.

Jane was folding laundry and putting it away like she usually did when she got the call.

“Hello, Mrs. Weston?”

“Yes?”

“This is Officer Peters calling to tell you that your husband was involved in a serious car accident. I need you to come down to the hospital immediately for identification.”

“Oh my God. I’m on the way.”

The butterfly turns into white gardens. Almost there. Almost there.

Jane jumps out of the town-bus fast, like a cheetah preying on it‘s feast. She didn’t care. Her baby was in there, her love.

Inside there was a dozen cops, and nurses standing around.

“I’m sorry mam.” One cop said.

“He’s gone.”

“No!“ Jane collapsed on the floor and felt as dead as her love.

His name wakes up complete remembrance In me.

Here lies Roger Owens Clifton. A great man and a great friend, a wonderful husband, he will be dearly missed.

Jane must have cried for hours at the tombstone, eventually someone put their hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see an old woman with long gray plaits. She had a cane and looked very determined.

“Come my child.”

This old lady’s name was Emma and she had been kind enough to welcome Jane into her home. A little cottage away from the city.

“You can love again.”

“No, I’ll never find someone like him again! I dedicated my whole life to being his wife. Since I was fifteen and he was seventeen, we’d always been in love!”

“Look at the world, my child. It’s the 60’s not the 40’s anymore. Women have more opportunities, better opportunities.”

Jane sniffed. ”Well maybe love is the greatest opportunity we’ll ever have!”

Emma looked deep into her soul. “If you spend your days chasing the past, you’ll never live in the present. Fear doesn’t stop death, it stops life and time stands still for no soul.“

Buckingham Palace is icy, isolated, and as beautiful as ever, different from when I was last here. My boots slip on the icy surface. The butterfly fades away into the snowy misty by a bench, a bench that’s occupied. A man sits there, dressed in casual winter attire. He looks dashing. As I come closer I realize that he becomes more clear. Dark hair blinds me like a light, blue eyes twinkle in my direction, and oh those lips, those pink curved lips, oh I’ve missed them! He’s so beautiful, I have to touch him. “Roger?” My voice creaks out. I ran up to him and just as I did, he disappears, along with it, my heart crumples.

The butterfly floats up passed the melancholy snowflakes and soars into the heavens.