In between the lush blades of grass in my backyard, a firefly appears.
I lunge forward and attempt to catch it, but as soon as my hand gets close, the firefly’s light winks out.
Suddenly, I am once again enveloped in darkness, straining my eyes to try and find the light.
I wait in agony for this one hope, this one luster that could give me a reason to see.
After another minute, it appears, now only a few feet in front of me.
I take a different approach than before and creep towards it slowly.
When my trembling fingers are finally right on top of the effervescent bug, I reach down and scoop it up.
I expect it to take flight immediately and leave me forever, but instead, it sits patiently.
The translucent wings on its back flitter slowly as its antennae trace the worn lines on my palm.
I can tell that it’s nervous, as am I. We are both waiting for the next opportunity to flit away, but for some unknown reason, we both decide to stay.
Looking closely, I see that one of its wings is broken. A small, silver sliver of the wing is missing from its fractured partner, lost in the woods.
Perhaps, like me, she’s bound to a world where she cannot escape forever. For only a moment, she can travel from one blade of grass to another, but at some point, she’s bound to sink to her earthen core from exhaustion.
She can’t keep up this facade for much longer.
Now, her light is fading. Each gleaming glow she makes is decreasing in occurrence and luminosity.
I cup my palms tighter together as she settles and sits.
She and I are kindred spirits.
We are tired. Tired from constantly emitting our light for others while depleting our own souls. She might’ve spent her whole life looking for another firefly to love, but I know she was unsuccessful. Alone, flitting through the mist for months, she’s spent a lifetime for others, so much so that she’s forgotten her own significance.
However, at this moment, she’s found a place for herself. About to begin her eternal rest, I know she’s only living for her.
Her wings and antennae fold at the same time, leaving my palms longing for her tender touch. I watch as her light winks out for the last time.
Under the moon and the stars, the rustling branches of the pine trees, and the gentle coo of an owl, she sleeps at night for the first time.
I settle her corpse on the grass next to me, letting her return to her roots.
I lay down next to her remains, feeling the prick of autumn pine needles on my back.
Uncomfortable, I shift, about to stand up and go back inside the walls of my house, until something catches my eye.
A brand-new star, shining with radiance and determination unlike any other in the everlasting tapestry above my head.
And just like that, I know.
She’s free.
