Fireflies

10

"Okay so this week, I went to Starbucks for the first time after so long. I guess I could say I'm proud of myself for ordering a cold venti latte," I proudly muttered when we hung out on the basketball court, butts seated on the sides of the gymnasium.

"Cool! What else made you smile today?"

I gripped the blue cemented bleacher and moved the ends of my feet forward and backward. Mark waited for me to say something but I was thinking hard, about what to respond to his question.

"It's quite surprising to see you eye me boldly," Mark commented as he tried to stop a stifle.

"Before, you couldn't even look straight at me for a full minute."

"I'm getting better."

Mark sighed and said, "That's good to hear, great even. But I guess that means sooner or later, you won't need me much."

"Don't say that. You help me go through the tough times."

"It's true, Beth."

"My name is Claire," I said with a smile on my face. "Claire Willows."

Mark's face changed. From the look of yearning, his eyes lit up. The corners of lips inched upward and he gleed in merry. He leaped in a silly manner and clapped his hands, overjoyed.

"You finally told me your name, why is that?" he asked intrigued.

"I made a friend today, her name is Angie. We met through the bookstore I recently went to on my own. Even my Mom is proud of how I'm starting to open up to society again."

"I'm happy for you."

I hugged him, grateful and pleased to see him so happy. "Thank you."

He froze of course. I did too. But Mark wrestled me into his wide chest and pulled me closer, both he and I got lost in the moment of comfort and a hug that recharges. His heartbeat thumped rapidly near my ears.

When he breathed, I could feel the rise and fall of his chest. But then when things became so awkward for a moment, his stomach churned and made a sound. All it took was for us to erupt into fits of laughter and give teases to each other again.

"You're so warm," I commented after recovering from laughter. "So warm."

He shyly rubbed the back of his neck and his cheeks rose up, flushed and visible. "You are warm too, you fit so well in my arms."

His words made me blush. Trying to not seem too obvious about it, I said something else.

"My time here is precious, too precious," I mouthed with a grin.

"And one day, you will come to forget about me because I will forever remain here."

His tone hinted sadness which made my brows draw together.

"Would you let me find you in the real world? I wish to meet you," I said with seriousness.

He shook his head. "What we have here is enough, don't you think? I don't know where I came from, where I am now or if I am really dead. No one can tell me. This memento you found is just a piece of my soul, a part of me."

"I will find you if you let me," I pleaded. "Mark, you've become a big part of my life."

"I'm just a chapter, like a single page of poetry you'll get over with sooner or later to move on further."

I shook my head in disagreement. "I don't wish for you to just be a chapter. Heck, you don't deserve to settle just for a book that has an end."

"Claire, I―"

"―I want you to be an open-ended journey of a biography that doesn't stop writing until I breathe my last breath," I said, determined.

"Sometimes, when you miss me," he remarked looking dull, closed, and far away. "You can just read the pages you found. Maybe you'll visit me again like you always do."

I reached for his hand, not permitting him to push me away even more. "Why won't you let me know who you truly are?"

"What if I'm already gone? That will hurt you even more. What if I am just an illusion in your head?"

I scowled at him. "Don't say that. You're real to me."

"Even if you want me to be, I'm not," he exclaimed, pushing my hand away. "I'm just a part of who I was and not there in the present."

"What I had with you, all this time, it was unforgettable."

"It was so why not make it remain like that?"

"No," I dismissed. "I'll find you."

"You will? I'm afraid to find out where I am now because you found me like this. Isn't it enough?"

"I've been afraid of people, haunted by things I never talked to you about. But you're helping me to cope that even my Mom is happy for me now."

The times I drifted off longer to dreamland, my Mom would frantically wake me up. And as months started to pass, she understood that I have been spending lesser hours talking to Mark because slowly and surely, my mood was coming back.

"I will be here waiting for you," Mark said. "No matter what you decide, I'll still be me, the Mark Lee you met through the thoughts in my memento."

~~~

The first week, everything haunted and gnarled the horrifying shivers that came to me. Slowly, continually, and I tried hard not to let Mom see it. I continued with therapy, visiting my psychiatrist from time to time with Mom who waits for me outside the door. Then I found Mark's memento which totally changed my days.

On the second, I started to dream about him. To me, it seemed more than just dreaming because I was in control, all my words came out of my own volition. Ever since I grabbed his book, read his thoughts, he frequently popped up in my mind. Was it wrong?

During the time nightmares came instead of him and his contagious laugh, I found myself clutching the memento, holding onto it for dear life wishing all my memories of Marina and that place would disappear.

They all told me this was my way of coping and it may be best for me to not be too attached to something that is not bounded by reality. Maybe they were right. But I still found myself waking up with a smile whenever I meet him.

Today, I sat down under the wisteria tree. Seven straight nights passed by without him and I was growing weak, in fact, worried. This was what my Mom warned me about and she looked at me in a way that told me she was right. The last time Mark appeared, I always tried to recall it.