The Moth and The Flame

I remember the day I first laid my eyes upon you.

The scatter of trees, their shadows sheltering the forest floor from the late afternoon heat, the muffled crunch of fallen twigs underneath my feet, and the birds' harmonies floating between the branches—I remember the day vividly.

I would often seek refuge in the forest, where there was nobody else to disturb me. That day, I was particularly stressed from the busyness of life and sought the forest's comfort as an escape.

Lost in thought, I was strolling through the wood's overgrown terrain, when I heard the sound of laughter. Abruptly, the birds halted their melodies. I should have listened to their warning, but the sound drew me in; I was already addicted. Out of my own curiosity, I peered through a thick bush, its thick leaves guarding me from your presence. That's when I saw you, chattering away in the meadow.

Benign and sweet, that's who I thought you were. Under the golden sunlight, your eyes were ignited a fiery orange. You were surrounded by friends, exchanging jokes and smiles and laughter.

I was hesitant to approach, but once my eyes met your's, I knew that returning to the forest alone was no longer an option. You welcomed me with open arms. How could I have known it was a trap?

"What's your name?" you asked, grinning from ear-to-ear. I couldn't help but to smile back as I responded with mine. Noticing my interest, you didn't hesitate to break away from your friends to explore the forest with me.

We wasted the day together, treading aimlessly along the forest’s unbeaten paths. I could have spent forever walking with you, but the afternoon was fading away. Reaching the edge of the forest, your eyes were trained on the brilliant sunset. Mine were helplessly watching you. I knew I was falling for you, fast. While parting with me, you offered to meet in the forest the following day, flashing your coy smile when I agreed. Your charm had captured me. With butterflies filling my stomach, I eagerly met you in the forest again.

Foolishly, I showed you all my favorite spots—the fallen tree, poised so perfectly it easily could be used as a bench, our bench; the quiet stream, which led back to my house; a quiet clearing in the midst of the tall trees, a circle of sunlight leaking in through the forest canopy. That's where you kissed me. It was a quick peck on the lips, not a grand gesture. But to me, it was everything. The birds did not sing, nor did the shadows block any of the sun's blazing heat. In your fiery gaze, I was burning alive.

Despite the birds' wariness in your presence, I continued to stroll the forest with you. Day after day, I showed you more locations I kept secret, more places for lingering touches, brushing of shoulders, the use of whispers to tentatively lean into each other's warmth... My former solitude was pleasant, but your company was my flame.

So, I always returned to the forest by your side. We shared our fears, discussed our dreams, and formed our own jokes. I cried with you, often spending hours on end comforting you. But I also laughed with you, in the way I’ve never laughed with anyone else. Together, we took upon every challenge that life threw at us, an unstoppable pair. The only thing you never did was meet me outside the forest, your new personal refuge. Yet, your goal was never to hide yourself from the world, as I did, but to hide me. You sought to hide us.

Over time, you grew distant. Our walks became colder, your fire dying out. I was anxious that I was the one distinguishing it. My nerves were consuming me, as I lied awake nightly wondering if you still cared—if you ever cared. So, to hide from the world and the thought of putting out your flame, I took a walk in the forest alone.

Treading along the forest floor, I listened as the birds sung their usual melodies. Abruptly, their songs morphed into a cautious silence. I strained my ears to detect what was frightening them, and was met with the sound of laughter. It was your's. Following the noise, I peered through a thick bush into the midst of the tall trees, where a circle of sunlight leaked through the forest canopy. My heart sank.

You were not alone, but embracing another. Flirting, in the way you eventually stopped speaking with me. You caught my eye, and alarm flickered across your face. My name escaped your lips in a desperate shout, but I was already bolting across the forest. I didn’t look back once, but in my heart, I knew you made no attempt to follow me. For the first time in months, I found myself completely alone. You never lost your fire, but had given it to someone else.

That was the first time I realized how painful heartbreak could be. A deadly force, overpowering all of my senses. I knelt down on the forest floor, able to do nothing but watch as my heart shatters into thousands of delicate pieces. I vowed to never be so foolishly in love ever again.

From then on, I never returned to the forest. I never saw my favorite spots again, for fear I would run into you. The birds stopped singing, and I was never able to meet your bright eyes again. But, your fiery gaze remains seared into my memory, a reminder of when I extended my heart to you, and was burned. I still miss the forest, and our endless conversations. Yet, I know that those eyes were never reserved for me.

Everything connects to that one day, where I first saw you in the meadow, laughing and joking with such innocent eyes. I never should have let you into my forest, because like your love, it will never again be mine.

I regret the day I first laid my eyes upon you.