*
'How peculiar,' I mused. I could not recall the last time I had seen a butterfly. As adults with busy lives, we are so preoccupied with every day survival that a butterfly could fly in front of our faces and we not see it. I myself am guilty of the deceptive, lucid, cat and mouse game we have adapted under the guise of living. I smiled and found irony in the moment. Comfort, my butterfly, had taken flight. I could not imagine holding onto her wings. One cannot hold onto a butterfly's wings, for it would simply and tragically die.
Soon after, we arrived at the airport and parked our car. We walked inside to patiently wait in the passenger arrival designation. Being patient was a slippery bar of soap, however. I was a nervous wreck, anticipating what was about to happen.
If there ever was a time in my life when I felt like I could walk on water, it was this momentous . . . moment. I felt ecstasy running through my veins and was antsy to see Comfort. I wanted to hear her voice, learn of what she had accomplished and thought that she may be famous by now. Mom was sitting next to me and seemed content. I could sense she adored Comfort by the tone she maintained when she spoke of her.
Minutes dragged on but when it was about time for Comfort's flight to arrive, I excitedly stood up and watched passengers from other flights exit. Walking down the corridor, some passengers raced toward their loved ones and others causally paced their strides while clutching their possessions. I could see auras of everyone as I waited. Then I finally saw Comfort. She wasn't walking down the corridor in the midst of the crowd, I kind of cheated cheetah. I jumped to the runway, where the planes were landing and saw Comfort sitting in her seat, with her hair pulled back into a pony tail. I watched her as she unbuckled her seat belt and stood up. With the plane being pulled by a trolley to its bay, she began to retrieve her carry-on luggage out of the overhead compartment. A few seconds later, which felt like hours, the plane docked and passengers began to shuffle off the plane. Butterflies and chill bumps had set in. Her face shined, eyes beamed and her aura radiated. Her aura had grown since the last time I had seen her. Her face had changed, but not by much. It was the same Comfort I remembered seeing days ago, but in reality it had been ten years. I did not want to cheat anymore with my talent. I wanted to experience the real moment by waiting to watch her walk down the corridor and through the gates. After jumping back to my current position, it wasn't but a couple more minutes when I saw her. It was as if the scene was in slow motion and like no one else was present. It was just she and I. In my head I heard the music accompanied by a choir of angels in a grand orchestra piece. Visualizing my twin flame, I saw her eyes sparkling blue and with each step she maintained such grace. As she walked toward me, about midway through the corridor Comfort took off at a slow jog, weaving through the crowd. She arrived at the gate and started running toward me with her arms stretched out. I had already begun walking, or hobbling over to meet her. She dropped the bag she had draped over her right shoulder to the floor below and leapt toward me. I caught her in midair, straining from pain but feeling none at the same time. I wrapped my arms around her neck and held her tight in my arms as she wrapped her legs around my waist. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and absorbed Comfort's familiar smell. I leaned back to look into her eyes and gave her a kiss as Comfort smiled. I thought to myself, 'what if she is married or had a boyfriend?' then threw caution to the wind and kissed her again but this time longer. Meanwhile, retrieved a rose that I had hid in my sleeve and gently sat her down. At the sight of the rose, or perhaps from the impact of the moment, she started to cry. Mom, who had been standing back watching, had crept up on me as she placed her hand on my shoulder and began rubbing my back. As I turned to look, my Mom was wiping her eyes. Being a softy at heart with a delayed reaction, tears began streaming down my face as well. Moments later, after drying our eyes, I walked with Comfort's hand in mine to retrieve the bag she had dropped. I then continued to walk toward the bag carousel as my Mom and Comfort struck up conversation in a natural chord. After waiting at the carousel, it wasn't long until Comfort's suitcase had arrived and we proceeded towards the car. Staring at Comfort, I felt convinced she was an angel in plain clothes. Or an angel living in a world of hate, fueled by greed, self-fulfillment and egocentric beliefs. She was truly one of a kind; my drug, my medicine, to say the very least. There was no doubt that I was still head over heels in love with her. Although she had changed, in my eyes she was still the same.
On the car ride home, we began catching up on the lost years and she expressed how good I looked.
"When we go out people are going to think I'm your Mom, you realize that?" She said jokingly. I felt no need to respond to the statement. When we arrived home I carried in her bags. My mom and Comfort continued to hit it off, talking nonstop. Once inside, to my surprise Mom had invited everyone over for dinner. I was greeted by all of my loved ones and it was awesome seeing my family together again. Equally awesome was being able to parade Comfort around the room and having the pleasure of introducing her to each of my family members. There were a few awkward moments since some of my family members think they are comedians. But all is told with good intentions, so it is what it is and I was happy to deal with it. Later that evening the entire family sat around the dinner table and I took in the familiar faces. Realizing that the life we have been given is bigger than I could ever begin to understand, it was in that moment that I understood the secret to life. No special talents or abilities were necessary. I could read on my family's faces the words they wanted to express. I also saw the change and maturation of most during the dinner. I realized that I was absent in this world, minutes in my perspective but was ten years for them. I wanted to be able to share my experience with everyone, to tell him or her what I had seen and what had happened, but I couldn't find the voice to speak. I couldn't bare the pain of them knowing that their suffering and agony was long-lived compared to mine. I felt selfish and realized that I had stolen precious time from them which I could not repay. I cruised about, popping in and out of their lives, always looking the same and never aging. I then realized I should not let my thoughts plague the present. I should try to be happy with the time I did have and enjoy our time left.
After dinner we took a unanimous vote to play a board game. Time flew by as we talked about any and everything. Finally Comfort and I got some time to ourselves and I inquired about her music career and her personnel life. She then asked to play a CD and mad-dashed up the stairs. Moments later she returned and placed the CD into my Moms surround sound stereo system. She introduced the CD as her demo and the entire family gathered to listen. I closed my eyes, and momentarily found myself getting lost in the elegance of her voice. Her music was great! It sounded like something you would hear on the radio, except positive and uplifting, similar to Poor Spirits. Her music had heart and soul and the entire family expressed how great it was, all wanting copies. Comfort in later conversations talked about her past relationships, none of which were as cool as ours. I learned that she had been hurt in the past by one or two of them and was now by choice single and celibate for the last three years.
As the night came to a close, it wasn't long until we decided to get some shut-eye. Comfort slept in Dallas's old room, but midway through the night, snake, snakidy-snake, managed to sneak out of the room and into mine. I gladly accepted the bombardment and held her tightly in my arms, enjoying her touch and warmth long into the morning hours.
The next few days we were inseparable. We went to the local restaurants and festivities and laughed and joked about the past and the present. She also coined a nickname for me: 'Sleeping Beauty.' In light of this new name, I thought of one for her, which I cleverly devised: 'old lady.' Thankfully she laughed in good spirit. Speaking of spirits, I saw them often, but they didn't try to bother me. In fact, when I saw Dark Siders, they would run or vanish from sight. It was indeed a change of pace, seeing a
s how I once feared them. I wasn't sure why they avoided me, but I liked it all the same. Everyday I spent morning to night listening to Comfort, trying to hold on to each word, each laugh and each breath as long as I could. Observing her every move, I attempted to memorize her. Admittedly, this often freaked her out, but I blamed this awkwardness on the coma. I just wanted to refresh my mind, to remember her exactly as she was at that point in time.
Days passed like hours and the nights swept by. The next thing I knew Comfort was packed and set to depart. I thought of ways to make her stay and ways I could go with her, but like the physics standard model, in the end nothing made sense. I mean, my life didn't make sense whatsoever. I wanted more than anything to be with her. She was after all the only person who I felt understood me. She was the only person I could confide with and the only person to have held my heart.
Standing in the driveway, I watched the cab drive off, carrying the world's most precious cargo: a butterfly who was the love of my life. I felt peace knowing she would be safe and forever be loved. I stood long after the cab left, trying to absorb each moment we shared. I then saw my Mom peeking out of the kitchen window as she used to do years ago, attempting to be slick but mainly nosy. I saw and tried to catch her, but with years of practice, being slick as she is, she slid off to the side and out of sight. She truly was as smooth as I always remembered her being and it made me smile. She, of course, didn't know that I could see through walls. I walked inside where my Mom stood in the kitchen with her arms outstretched. As I approached we shared a loving embrace. She liked Comfort I knew. I missed Comfort already as well, but couldn't for both of our sakes. For my sanity, and hers, I had to let her go once and for all.
Under normal circumstances I would have ran into the street and chased after the cab, screaming out her name and begging for her to stay. I would have accomplished the feat long before this point in time. As pathetic as it may seem, that night I was unable to sleep, and I leaned toward the side of the bed where Comfort had slept and smelled the sheets, matching the familiarity of my mind with her essence. Which, odd, random, strange, Jonas Brothers, helped me to fall asleep.
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