Firefly

It was the fireflies that had brought her here. Hundreds of them, or perhaps thousands, lit up the open plain, blinking in and out of existence in such a flurry of movement it was difficult to pinpoint just one. The warm summer wind that blew through the tall grass did nothing but stir up more of the little bugs, lighting up the sky with that warm glow that only came at the height of summer.

Blink, blink, blink.

Daria sat in the back of her van, which doubled as her bed on most nights, and let one leg dangle out, pulling her other knee close to her chin, which rested gingerly atop it. In one hand she held a steaming mug of ginger tea, inhaling its fragrant scent as it floated up to her nose. She had parked in this spot to watch the little blinking orbs, her heart aching at the beauty of the sight. When she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the feel of her husband's rough, callused hand resting on her cheek, and the way he would brush his lips against hers in the softest of kisses, just like she liked.

Two months it had been since she'd last seen him, since she'd last heard his laugh. Two months since she'd quit her job, packed up her belongings, and shoved as much of it in storage as she could afford before hitting the road. Lucas hadn't known how long he would be gone this time. He hadn't known where he was going, or at the very least he hadn't been able to tell her. But in this moment, it was if he was sitting beside her, watching in awe as the world danced before them.

"This is the last time," he'd breathed against her ear as they'd said their sad, sweet goodbyes. Maybe, she thought wearily, but all she could think was of the loneliness she would feel when he had gone. All she could see when he left was the home they had shared, the life that only made sense when he was with her. It hadn't been a tough choice for her to leave it all behind. She'd had few friends in the place they had landed after his last deployment. She wasn't even sure why they'd chosen it, other than the fact that it had been by the beach. But she knew the moment he'd driven away that staying in that apartment, in that life, would feel like suffocating without him. And so she did the only thing she felt she could do - she left.

At first, she hadn't really known where she'd been going. She had slid into the driver's seat of their sedan and before she knew it, she'd pulled into the parking lot of a car dealership. By the time she'd left, she'd sold the car and purchased a minivan that she could easily convert into a camper. She'd spent the next two weeks living out of a hotel, watching countless Youtube videos and reading what felt like every reddit thread. The work had kept her busy, both mentally and physically. For when she stopped to think about what had pushed her to this moment, she felt the pain of losing him, even for a moment, beginning to creep into her body as though a spider had crawled under her skin.

By the time she was done, she'd outfitted her little van with everything she thought she could possibly need for a cross country road trip, and although she loathed sharing anything too personal online, she'd made an exception for the inside of her van. After all, the internet brain trust would always be willing to let her know what she'd done wrong. It was shabby, to be sure, but she was proud of what she'd created. And to her surprise, the online community where she'd shared her project had proven full of praise, encouragement, and gentle suggestions, which she'd taken to heart as best she could afford to do.

Her gaze fell on the makeshift bed in the back seat, covered in a knit blanket she'd picked up in a small gift shop years prior, when she and Lucas had gone on a road trip not entirely unlike this one. On top of the blanket rested a framed wedding photo - her and Lucas, eyes bright, both laughing, his arms around her waist, their heads bowed together. That had been two years ago. How much had changed in such a short time. The twist in her heart returned, and she slammed the back doors shut before she allowed it to pull tighter and unravel the small peace she was slowly creating for herself.

She'd been so focused on preparing this step she hadn't truly known where she would go once it was done. But as she looked up from the receptionist's desk, she noticed another photo, this time one filled with fireflies.

"Where is that?" she asked the woman behind the desk. The woman turned and squinted at the photo, before a soft smile curled on her lips, her gaze going hazy as if reliving a memory. She stood and walked to the photo, leaning down to read the writing in black ink at the bottom of the frame.

"Firefly Sanctuary, New Canaan Land Trust, Connecticut," she read aloud and then stood, placing her hands on her hips. "My husband took that photo last year on a road trip" she mused to herself. "He said it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen." She smiled to herself. Lucas adored fireflies. Perhaps she could take a photo for him, and then they could go see the fireflies together when he got home.She smiled to herself. She had her first destination.

As she slipped into the drivers seat, Daria tapped the location into her phone, settling it in its cradle before reaching to turn on the van. But as her finger reached the button, she paused. This, she realized, was it. The was the moment she truly left their life behind. The twisting in her heart began again, and her gaze fell on the empty passenger seat.

"Did you know fireflies are actually beetles, not flies or bugs?" his deep voice drifted from a memory, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Then another. And another, until her gaze blurred and her body began to shake. She had followed him around the world, picking up every couple of years as his job dictated. She had become so reliant on his presence, she almost hadn't realized she'd had no foundation to fall back on without him. Their friends had been as temporary as their homes, their families sinking into the background of their worlds. It was only now, as he left her alone, that she had finally begun to accept how much she ached to have a home, a community, on which to rely.

She rested her head on the steering wheel, her body wracking with sobs, hands shaking as they gripped the leather. She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, but at some point the sobs began to ebb, and she became aware of her tear-soaked shirt and jeans.

Her phone buzzed, the caller ID reading "Liza". Her sister. She stared at it for a long moment before she accepted the call. How had she known? She almost laughed. Her sister always seemed to know when Daria needed her most, even if Daria refused to acknowledge it.

"Hey, Dee" came the hesitant voice on the other end of the line. It had been months since they'd talked. Daria had been so focused on Lucas that she'd barely registered her sister's life, even though Liza had tried over and over to get Daria to visit. But to her great credit, Liza had never given up. Her big sister had refused to accept that Daria was a "for the holidays only" kind of family. And now Daria, guilt rapidly overtaking the loneliness that only moments ago had consumed her, realized she'd been a fool for not keeping Liza close.

"Hey Z," she responded in a half-whisper, trying not to sound like she'd just been crying. She yanked a tissue out of her purse and wiped her eyes. Her shirt and pants would dry, so she opted not to bother changing them.

"What's wrong?" Liza immediately asked. Of course Liza would hear the pain in her voice, whether she tried to hide it or not. Daria went quiet. She hadn't even told her sister that Lucas would be deployed, let alone that he'd left.

"Nothing, nothing," Daria pushed Liza's question aside and did her best to change the subject, "So what's up? Why are you calling?"

Silence on the other end of the line. Had she said something wrong? Was something wrong with Liza?

"Wait, is everything ok with you?" Daria asked worriedly. A soft chuckle on the other end of the line made her heart sink, as she felt more than heard the pain in her sister's voice. Had she missed something? Of course she must have. Another pang of emptiness ached in her heart.

"Daria," Liza began gently, "do you..." she trailed off for a moment, and Daria could hear Liza taking a deep breath, "would you and Lucas like to come visit?"

Liza, her husband and their two children lived a world away in Los Angeles, so far from the tiny apartment Daria and Lucas shared in Virginia Beach. She knew her answer. Daria took a deep breath and turned on the car, feeling relief course through her as the engine roared to life.

"Yes," she responded, "but Lucas won't be joining me."

"Tell me what happened," Liza said. Daria slowly pulled onto the road, shifting in her seat until she was comfortable and then taking a deep breath. And then she began to tell Liza everything.

For the next few days, Daria called Liza every day, talking for hours as Daria drove and Liza took a lunch break or went for a long walk in the evenings. And each day, as the physical distance between them shrank, so did the emotional one. Daria had felt lighter than she had in years, and took each call with Liza as a moment to allow herself to share the thoughts and fears she'd held for so long tucked away in her heart, doing her best to ensure Lucas always felt supported. And then in the evenings, Daria would find a camp site or a hotel where she would set up and people watch, allowing herself to be only with her own thoughts, while also meeting others along the way. And although she had not heard from Lucas, she found that her loneliness had ebbed, not only because she'd made the conscious decision to reconnect with her sister, but also with herself.

Now, as she watched the fireflies, she felt a sense of calm wash over her that she hadn't felt in years. Taking a sip of tea, she reveled in the warm summer breeze, before pulling out her camera and snapping a few shots of the magical scene before her. Some day, when he returned, she would bring him here and they could gaze in wonder at the beauty of the world together. But until then, she would take these moments for herself, see the world through her eyes alone, and give herself the freedom to find her way home.

Her phone buzzed beside her. Liza. She smiled and tapped the screen.

"Well hello there, my friend."