She had never wanted to love him. Kevyn can make that fact clear to herself with no problem. She hadn’t minded the other fact that she had fallen in love with him, but she still had never wanted to love him. Those kinds of fantasies are only for girls who had time. She is not that kind of girl.

A girl who can love someone like him is someone who has time. Someone who has the heart to love. Someone who has the freedom to love. Or rather, someone who wants that freedom.

Kevyn doesn’t want freedom. At least, not anymore. She realizes she has abused her freedom for far too long. She wants her freedom restricted.

That’s how she can say it. How clever. She doesn’t need to love him. She can just look to him as a slave would its master. No love involved. She doesn’t need to call it love.

Kevyn smiles to herself, happy about her conclusion. She is a rather rebellious slave, she figures, but still loyal to him to a certain extent. Her freedom is limited.

A swallowtail butterfly flies by.

Kevyn watches the yellow and black wings alternate as the butterfly flutters along around her.

How free it seems.

Kevyn does not take her eyes off the swallowtail as it alights on a branch, slowly fluttering its wings as it takes a rest. Then it floats into the air again, descending to Kevyn, circling around her almost teasingly.

It teases in just the same way he does. Subtly, yet sharply.

She feels a pang of menace in her heart, but then remembers – her freedom is in his hands. He is only toying with it, like any master would.

Her anger dies away for the moment.

Yet the swallowtail does not leave her. It has the freedom to not leave her, so it chooses to continue circling around her.

But distantly, it catches sight of a bright red flower, a rhododendron. It alights upon the flower, as if waiting.

Time passes, then a dull green butterfly alights on the rhododendron. It too, is a swallowtail, its dull green tips shining to a bright gold.

Kevyn wonders how it has survived with its gaudiness.

It is the only one of its kind…Just like that which you love. I live as long as he breathes; no harm will come upon me.

It floats from the rhododendron, fluttering away as easily as it came.

The other swallowtail flutters away from the flower, alighting on Kevyn’s shoulder. It curiously touches its antennae to her cheek.

That curious touch reminds her of her days of freedom, when she had willingly abused it. She was passing through an old, humble village when a shop owner asked her to where do you journey, young traveler? When will your journey end?

Wherever my heart goes, and whenever my heart tells me to stop. There is no end to my journey until I believe I should stop.

Really now? Someone said the same thing to me long ago. He promised me he’d come back, and I said goodbye long ago as I saw him off. He has yet to come back this way.

A swallowtail butterfly had gently landed on her shoulder then as well, resting its tired wings.

By the time I realized it, there was too much time between us…

Mockingly circling around her in its free glory. Mocking her for giving up her freedom. Mocking her for being afraid of freedom.

Freedom to love.

Freedom to hate.

Freedom to seek.

Freedom to be free.

Somewhere in her mind, she knows she wishes for it. She knows she wants and longs for it. But it would have been better if it was only in her dreams. Now the world’s expression has changed; the world itself has changed. Somewhere in her mind, sky and sea become one. There is no horizon.

After finding what it cost her, she became afraid. She wants freedom no more. She wants to be eternally bound to something that would undoubtedly restrict her freedom. She is afraid.

Kevyn feels she is standing on her own stage. No one watching her. No one with her. She wishes her feelings were only parts of a dream she had forgotten long ago.

As she stands on her stage, a swallowtail flutters by. It circles around her once, then flutters to the opposite side of the stage. Circling around someone there, it follows the person as he approaches center stage.

It’s only a dream. This stage does not exist. The swallowtail is only a mocking irritation.

But no. The yellow and black swallowtail flutters back to Kevyn, changing to silver and black. But as it touches her finger, it disintegrates away.

Another swallowtail appears, the green and gold one from before. It alights on his shoulder, then flies to the disintegrated pile of silver, softly landing in the silver dust.

Kevyn stares at the silver dust, tears falling as she looks up him. He approaches center stage, stopping so that the silver dust and green swallowtail lay between them.

No words escape his lips. His eyes say everything he wants to say. Same stage, equal ground, pervading love. Don’t be afraid.

There is still no one in the audience.

He holds his hand to her. His green and gold swallowtail flutters to his shoulder again.

Hope. Freedom. Trust. Happiness. Love.

That’s what taking his hand means. Priceless treasures she is not sure she can have.

His green swallowtail circles around her again in that teasing subtle, yet sharp manner. It alights on her shoulder. Are you afraid?

Yes. I’m afraid.

Of what?

I can’t tell you.

His eyes soften, and he lowers his hand. Don’t be afraid. He kneels to the silver dust of her swallowtail, holding a hand over it. You still have hope, and you can still be free. He takes his hand away.

Her silver swallowtail takes flight once more.

Don’t be afraid of freedom. You did nothing wrong.

He takes her hand, pulling her close as he kisses her lips.

She pulls away, afraid. She doesn’t want this freedom to love. It could hurt.

There is no room for her to protest. He holds her in his embrace. You have the freedom to love. No one can take that away from you, even if you wish for it.

I’m afraid. I’m still afraid of what could happen.

There’s no need to fear. You are who you are. Don’t be afraid.

I still am. I’ll never shake it off.

Why is that? Why can’t we share it? Don’t you love me?

I’m afraid. I don’t know what might happen if I choose to have the freedom to love you. I adore you, I love you with all of my worthless heart and soul. But I don’t want to. I’m afraid.

Darkness of fear. That is what she has become. He holds her close. She is his light. She is his light that needs healing.

Two swallowtails dance together. One in fear. One in freedom.

Darkness of fear. He kisses her again, refusing to let this end. Center stage, equal ground, no audience, pervading love.

Yet it is not enough to kill the darkness of fear. She is that darkness.

But in his arms, with the soft metronome of his heartbeat, with her swallowtail silently alighting on his shoulder, and with his swallowtail resting its wings in her hair, encroaching fear does not hurt.

Fear lets go – she realizes her freedom to love, even if only for a moment.

Somewhere in her mind, she knows she wishes for it. She knows she wants and longs for it. But it would have been if it was only in her dreams. Now the world’s expression has changed; the world itself has changed. Somewhere in her mind, sky and sea become one. There is no horizon.