To Catch a Firefly

by Emmy Sanders

Taking a step forward, I tip Lucky’s chin. His eyes catch mine and his lips pop open, and when I lean down to press my mouth to his, his fingertips dig into my arm. Not pushing, though, holding. I’ve never kissed before, either, but Lucky deserves a first with someone who loves him. At least I can give him that.

“If you ever decide to love someone,” he says slowly, “they’ll be very lucky.” He already is.

“But we’re not done,” he says vehemently, stepping into my space. “We’ll never be done. Me and you, we don’t have an ending.”

“Not everyone is going to understand you, Ellis. But it’s not your job to make them.”

I was ten years old when I met Lucky. I knew it then, and I know it now. He’s a firefly. Luminous and wild. He was never meant to be trapped. Not here and not with me. And in a few days, I’ll finally watch him fly away.

I think it was at thirteen that I first felt my heart beat for you. And break, just a little. Because I knew, like that tornado, you’d leave destruction in your path, and I’d be your willing victim. I’d do it again. I love you, my brilliant firefly.

“He’s your anchor,” Danil says quietly. “No,” I whisper, my eyes lifting to the full moon. “He doesn’t fight the tide. He controls it.”

And I wonder if I’m even capable of letting him go.

Finally, I say, “When you’re…gone, you… You share your life. With me. Your adventures and… And your joy.” I set my gaze on the corn as I go on. “It means the world to me, Luck. To be a part of that. I… Please don’t stop just…just because I was…” Scared, I can’t say. I can’t. I let out a small breath before continuing. “I don’t ever want to lose…the place I have in your world.”

“We’ll never be done. Me and you, we don’t have an ending.”

“Have you ever wanted someone so much,” I say slowly, “that it feels like your atoms are vibrating when you’re away from them? Like you’re half of a whole, and your body knows it. And until you’re in their arms again, every single piece of you is straining toward them because…because they’re your home. They’re part of you. Your beginning and your never-ending. How? How do I move on from that?”

With the moon lending its soft glow through the window, Lucky falls asleep. And I learn what it is to cradle a firefly in my palms.

He also tells me that whales don’t only sing in their breeding grounds. They sing while traveling, and some scientists believe it’s for practice. So they can perfect their song by the time their migration is complete.

I don’t know what it is that makes attraction, but I know I bend toward you no matter where on this Earth you are. I feel your pull, and if I am your moon, as you say I am, then I promise to always call you back home.