You asked me once:
Do you know what the last flicker of flame before it dies out is called?
I shook my head in confusion. As we lay down in silence for the next few minutes though, you muttered what you thought was the answer.
Love, you told me. What else dies glowing like an ember?
Well, I replied. There’s firefly.
Because if glowing is all it takes to prove love, then all the fireflies in the world would rejoice in happiness the moment they die.
Exactly, you said. Exactly.
And then as we drifted off to sleep, I had a waking dream of us holding hands, surrounded by a glowing ocean of fireflies.