The difference between moths and butterflies.
(yes, another short story. Sorry it has been so long.)
By Myranda Neizer.
(yes, another short story. Sorry it has been so long.)
By Myranda Neizer.
Have you ever come across a Luna moth in the early hours of the morning, when it’s fluttering amidst the dewy grass on broken wings? That’s when death is so close you can feel it crawling across your toes while it journeys to the unfortunate soul that will no longer be breathing in a matter of hours, or even minutes. Sometimes I wonder what it accomplished before that moment, what it did to lead up to its dreary dance with eternal sleep. I always thought things were supposed to pass in to another life in the comfort of the dark, away from the prying eyes of the sun and the chorus of singing birds. Like an old dog that slinks under a porch before sighing its last lung full of air.
Or maybe the Luna moth finds company in the awaking world, feels a certain pleasure in being surrounded by things that have a day to live through while it’s are done and gone. Whatever the reason, I personally feel a sense of loss when I come to find such a scene as this. I can’t watch long as the dying creature withers. Throughout the day it haunts me, whispering in my ear like a mosquito you can’t quite swat away. It buzzes about, causing a story to form upon my lips like a cold sore, blistering forth for everyone to see.
This story is about the kind of love that forms in your bones where you can’t scrub it off. It is about a girl who stopped being a social butterfly and started living and about a boy who is simply referred to as a Luna moth because that is simply what he was.
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The girl I am talking about was young in age but old at heart. She was what most would consider normal, she laughed and smiled like everyone else and cried when tears where meant to be shed. However, inside she was empty and hollow, and in this hollow space a monster resided. It filled her up, shoving her bones and flesh aside to make room for its hunger and sheer mass. It made her tired, so tired that all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep the days away.
So day in and day out she would place on her face a mask of a girl everyone wanted to see, and on her back she created fake social butterfly wings. She’d use them to scurry through the day, skimming across the fragile fabric of her “friends” and keeping herself aloft with her wings. No one really knew that while she was laughing she was crying, and while she was smiling she was screaming, or that her happiness was a lie that festered inside of her. The lies just sat there and grew until it was ready to pop and spill poison throughout her veins.
Just when she was sure the monster was going to kill her off and release itself into her life, something shifted. A break in the fog allowed her to peer through. What she saw was a green moth hovering in a dark corner. A nook tucked out of sight that was made less bleak by the warmth emanating from him, a single Luna moth. She saw him and reached for him with all of her might, tugging herself through the layers of muddy fog that clung to her like a cocoon. The light beckoned her forward, out of the grasp of the monster and the lies. When at last she broke loose from the cocoon it was like she was finally free. And with her new found freedom her only wish was to re wrap herself in his loving embrace.
With gentle fingers the moth tugged off her mask and wrapped her in his silky wings. She welcomed him into the hollow of her mind where he replaced the monster that use to gorge itself there. Together they feed and thrived from one another, safe and warm. For months they were like this, happy and content while basking in the eternal glow of his wings.
It wasn’t until later that the girl noticed the moth preferred the dark corner of his world because he was left alone in it. His solitude was something he treasured, and when he’d pull away she was left to flounder in the dark until he returned. Learning to live without her lies wasn’t so hard with the moth around, but when he took the time alone he so desperately required what was she to do? Loneliness became her companion, cradling her in the night until her soft green lantern returned to her. She understood his need for freedom, that clinging to him too much was like rubbing off the magic powder that allowed him to fly. Though how could she not cling to the only light in her life? How could she not be attached to the thing that she loved so much it made her ache clear down to the bone? When he left her he left behind more than a gaping hole, it was like he was ripping the hole afresh each time. And each time she would bleed out until he returned to fill her up again.
Than the day came that she learned to sew up her own wounds. She taught herself to pick up the needle and thread and lace it through her flesh, creating neat and even stitches around the crater inside her. She may have needed the moth to feel full, but not to live her life. All she needed was her own two hands all along to patch up the hole and keep moving.
That’s when the hurdle of where to move to came up. The shaded world around her was not one she knew, but one she let the moth guide her through. It had sharp edges she could bump into and unknown things that lurked about.
Longing for the warmth of light she attempted to carry the moth with her into the day but he would not be carried. She cried and begged, pleaded with him but his mind would not be swayed. She tried to go by herself, tried to enjoy the grass beneath her feet and the hot asphalt pinching her bare toes as she darted across the streets to reach the lapping pools of water. Ultimately though he was all she wanted, she needed to be filled with his presence. Where ever she went she thought only of him. The grueling thing was that in returning to him she likewise returned to the thing she was starting to resent, being alone. Tied to him like a kite entangled in a tree branch, she heaved towards the clouds only to be torn up. Why couldn’t she just soar with him in tow? She hated being forced to choose between night and day. The choice between the nectar of flowers in bloom and the connection she felt with him that was so deep it made her pulse quicken in her wrist and throat was becoming harder to make.
Finally it got so bad that she envisioned ripping away from him, sewing up the hole in her body once and for all. It was apparent she couldn’t have both, that she would have to stay or go. The thought of him not returning made the very fiber of her being shiver; she loved him like no other. That thought decided it for her, the pain of just thinking about him not returning hurt like a dagger. They were one thing made of two completely different halves. Constantly they were pulled apart and welded back together by the heat of their love alone.
Or maybe the Luna moth finds company in the awaking world, feels a certain pleasure in being surrounded by things that have a day to live through while it’s are done and gone. Whatever the reason, I personally feel a sense of loss when I come to find such a scene as this. I can’t watch long as the dying creature withers. Throughout the day it haunts me, whispering in my ear like a mosquito you can’t quite swat away. It buzzes about, causing a story to form upon my lips like a cold sore, blistering forth for everyone to see.
This story is about the kind of love that forms in your bones where you can’t scrub it off. It is about a girl who stopped being a social butterfly and started living and about a boy who is simply referred to as a Luna moth because that is simply what he was.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
The girl I am talking about was young in age but old at heart. She was what most would consider normal, she laughed and smiled like everyone else and cried when tears where meant to be shed. However, inside she was empty and hollow, and in this hollow space a monster resided. It filled her up, shoving her bones and flesh aside to make room for its hunger and sheer mass. It made her tired, so tired that all she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep the days away.
So day in and day out she would place on her face a mask of a girl everyone wanted to see, and on her back she created fake social butterfly wings. She’d use them to scurry through the day, skimming across the fragile fabric of her “friends” and keeping herself aloft with her wings. No one really knew that while she was laughing she was crying, and while she was smiling she was screaming, or that her happiness was a lie that festered inside of her. The lies just sat there and grew until it was ready to pop and spill poison throughout her veins.
Just when she was sure the monster was going to kill her off and release itself into her life, something shifted. A break in the fog allowed her to peer through. What she saw was a green moth hovering in a dark corner. A nook tucked out of sight that was made less bleak by the warmth emanating from him, a single Luna moth. She saw him and reached for him with all of her might, tugging herself through the layers of muddy fog that clung to her like a cocoon. The light beckoned her forward, out of the grasp of the monster and the lies. When at last she broke loose from the cocoon it was like she was finally free. And with her new found freedom her only wish was to re wrap herself in his loving embrace.
With gentle fingers the moth tugged off her mask and wrapped her in his silky wings. She welcomed him into the hollow of her mind where he replaced the monster that use to gorge itself there. Together they feed and thrived from one another, safe and warm. For months they were like this, happy and content while basking in the eternal glow of his wings.
It wasn’t until later that the girl noticed the moth preferred the dark corner of his world because he was left alone in it. His solitude was something he treasured, and when he’d pull away she was left to flounder in the dark until he returned. Learning to live without her lies wasn’t so hard with the moth around, but when he took the time alone he so desperately required what was she to do? Loneliness became her companion, cradling her in the night until her soft green lantern returned to her. She understood his need for freedom, that clinging to him too much was like rubbing off the magic powder that allowed him to fly. Though how could she not cling to the only light in her life? How could she not be attached to the thing that she loved so much it made her ache clear down to the bone? When he left her he left behind more than a gaping hole, it was like he was ripping the hole afresh each time. And each time she would bleed out until he returned to fill her up again.
Than the day came that she learned to sew up her own wounds. She taught herself to pick up the needle and thread and lace it through her flesh, creating neat and even stitches around the crater inside her. She may have needed the moth to feel full, but not to live her life. All she needed was her own two hands all along to patch up the hole and keep moving.
That’s when the hurdle of where to move to came up. The shaded world around her was not one she knew, but one she let the moth guide her through. It had sharp edges she could bump into and unknown things that lurked about.
Longing for the warmth of light she attempted to carry the moth with her into the day but he would not be carried. She cried and begged, pleaded with him but his mind would not be swayed. She tried to go by herself, tried to enjoy the grass beneath her feet and the hot asphalt pinching her bare toes as she darted across the streets to reach the lapping pools of water. Ultimately though he was all she wanted, she needed to be filled with his presence. Where ever she went she thought only of him. The grueling thing was that in returning to him she likewise returned to the thing she was starting to resent, being alone. Tied to him like a kite entangled in a tree branch, she heaved towards the clouds only to be torn up. Why couldn’t she just soar with him in tow? She hated being forced to choose between night and day. The choice between the nectar of flowers in bloom and the connection she felt with him that was so deep it made her pulse quicken in her wrist and throat was becoming harder to make.
Finally it got so bad that she envisioned ripping away from him, sewing up the hole in her body once and for all. It was apparent she couldn’t have both, that she would have to stay or go. The thought of him not returning made the very fiber of her being shiver; she loved him like no other. That thought decided it for her, the pain of just thinking about him not returning hurt like a dagger. They were one thing made of two completely different halves. Constantly they were pulled apart and welded back together by the heat of their love alone.
Again and again she tried to coax him out with her. Tried explaining why she needed him to comply. Tried but failed each time. When she cried he would look away. When she sank into depression he didn’t seem to see or care. Week after week seeped by like sand through open fingers, yet nothing changed. While he wallowed in his darkness, she wilted.
The moth in the hollow of her mind, the lantern of her world, was literally sucking the life from her. But she just couldn’t push him away. She refused to face the thought of not having him a part of her because that thought in itself was enough to bring her to her knees. Inches from his face she would beg him with teary eyes to spare her heart or just go away if he couldn’t.
He stayed, claiming undying love for the very person he was killing from the inside out. It had to stop soon, this much she knew.
He would plead for her to trust him, “Just be patient with me,” he asked, with his hands cradling her broken heart.
Of course she would agree, every time she would agree. Scooping up the last bit of trust she had in her, she placed it in his care without a doubt in her mind she would see the results she needed.
She coddled him, laying him against her breast and allowing his wings to envelope her while she slept. Dreaming of the things they’ll do and what they’ll see, she permitted herself to fall asleep in bliss with their heads touching. They slept on and on in their own little world, stepping on each others toes as they tried to fly together.
He stayed, claiming undying love for the very person he was killing from the inside out. It had to stop soon, this much she knew.
He would plead for her to trust him, “Just be patient with me,” he asked, with his hands cradling her broken heart.
Of course she would agree, every time she would agree. Scooping up the last bit of trust she had in her, she placed it in his care without a doubt in her mind she would see the results she needed.
She coddled him, laying him against her breast and allowing his wings to envelope her while she slept. Dreaming of the things they’ll do and what they’ll see, she permitted herself to fall asleep in bliss with their heads touching. They slept on and on in their own little world, stepping on each others toes as they tried to fly together.
With their moist, dewy wings entangled they fluttered about in the glass jar they created for one another. The vision they so desperately tried to produce made them blind and deaf to everything, including themselves. Over and over again their bodies thumped against the glass keeping them from being truly happy and yet they could not see that if they just simply flew up and away they would be free. Drained and sore they wilted against each other, tainting the air they shared with bitter resentment and scorn. Cocooned in the others wings the moth and butterfly slumbered on, occasionally stirring to test the glass walls around them but never looking up. They could not see past one another.
And then the day came that the moth lovingly took her into his arms again and with nimble fingers untied the mask around her face. It dropped away slowly, peeling away the layers off sleep as it fell. The bright light of reality dumb founded her, making her shy away. How had another mask found its way across her face? When she finally opened her eyes and looked the moth was gone. She was alone with damp tears smearing her face, huddled up close to her bleeding heart. For six months she wallowed in her tears, until the light of a new day dried her wings and she flew up and away.
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In its adult form the Luna moth only lives about a week. During this week it does not eat or sleep, its soul goal is to find a mate and reproduce. It’s most commonly seen at night, with a wingspan of 3 to 3.5 inches it’s one of the larger species of moths.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
In its adult form the Luna moth only lives about a week. During this week it does not eat or sleep, its soul goal is to find a mate and reproduce. It’s most commonly seen at night, with a wingspan of 3 to 3.5 inches it’s one of the larger species of moths.
profound..
ReplyDeleteThank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
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