She says, “are you okay? It’s almost as though you’re about to break… like a fracture along a faultline, a cracked hull on a ship at sea…”
She takes a hand and guides him down the stairs, through the kitchen and out the back door onto the porch. The moon is full, the air warm, the woord and chipped paint rough on the soles of their feet. She leads him down the weathered steps to the cool grass, the uncut blades sprouting like skyscrapers in between their toes as they walk out into the meadow.
She leads him out a ways, their fingers intertwined like two puzzle pieces. She looks back over her shoulder, the house unseen except for the faint glow of the light in the kitchen. She steps, wraps her arms around him and sighs as she rests her head on his shoulder. After a moment, he looks down at the side of her face, brings his arms up and embraces her, a silent way of saying to her that he is still there, somewhere.
In that meadow, free of car horns and streetlights, the two of them stand together and breathe together. She cries. He just stares, feels a void behind his eyes- a thousand mile gap between what his eyes see and what it means to him. She cries because, well, she doesn’t know what else to do. She lifts her cheek up from his shoulder and whispers to the wind, “tell me you’re still here…”
Her gentle sobs and the chirping crickets are the only sounds in the grass, the moon the only meaningful light, full, high and bright.
She steps back, grabs his hands and kisses him softly. He looks at her, seeing her but not as she takes a few steps away, turning her back towards him, her hair blowing in the delicate breeze. He stands, transfixed on nothing or everything, unmoving, his arm stretched out in front of his, her arm stretched behind her back, their hands still locked together. She hesitates, unsure of her ability to stay or walk away, not sure if she should do either.
He looks down as she takes another step, their hands nearly coming apart. She glances back over her shoulder and meadow erupts in luminescence. Thousands of fireflies spring up and bathe the field in their glow. She looks back and sees him smiling- smiling at her. She turns around and they step towards each other. He pulls her into his arms, tears falling down her cheeks, fireflies dancing around them.
“I thought I lost you.”
“I might lose myself, but, no, you’ll never lose me.”
