The sunlight filters through the leaves, warm hues of orange and yellow flitting across your face as you smile up at me. I’m afraid of blinking, lest this moment disappears, slipping from in between my fingers like the sand we’re standing upon. Barefoot, that’s how you walk through life: you say I like the feeling of feeling everything, you want to capture it all. If someone asked me what the perfect gift for you would be, I would say the experience of experiencing in a heartbeat, wrapped in a little box, tied up with a bow.

You close your eyes, and I’m curious, I want to know what’s going through that beautiful head of yours, with dreams bigger than I could ever imagine, and more humanity in your being
than anyone I’ve come across. You chuckle, a deep, warm sound, layered with the shades of the sunlight we’re bathed in. You want to know what I’m thinking, don’t you. A statement, not a question. You’re wholly sure of yourself, of me. You pose it as a question, when you’re aware of the answer — you want to make me feel like I have a little bit of a say, when you know you hold the strings of my heart in your palm, wound around your fingers. You fascinate me, that’s all. It’s impossible to pin you down, I reply, eyes crinkled against the sun as I gaze up at the sky, away from you. If I look at you for too long, my stare will burn right through you; you seem fragile, a piece of paper flitting through the wind, carefree, unanchored; I’m terrified of pinning you down, tearing the butterfly’s wings. However, the second I’m offered the chance, I know I won’t hesitate to slam the bell jar down, suspend you in time, suspend us in time, watching you flutter from one end to the other. Cruel, yes, but worth it. For you. To keep you forever, to keep you safe, out of harm’s way.

What’s going on in there? You laugh, tapping the side of my forehead with your finger; it burns, where you touch me, a current immediately pulling me back to reality. Nothing, really. I was trying to picture you as a butterfly. Your face breaks into a smile, beginning with your eyes. A butterfly, huh? What do I look like? Like every single colour, merged into one. A myriad of emotions, bound together, with crystal wings that absorb and reflect each light beam, holding everyone’s attention hostage. I can’t say that to you, though, what if it scares you off? Um, the Ulysses butterfly. Your smile widens. Why is that? The answer is simple. It’s rare, it’s beautiful. It’s impossible to keep your eyes off of it. You throw your head back, laughing, a lilting melody, wind chimes on the seaside. A strand of hair escapes your bun, honey coloured, teasing me, beckoning me to touch you. You win. My hand caresses your face before gently tucking it behind your ear, and time stands still. You freeze. Sorry, did I go too far? I hear myself ask, a faraway sound, as if echoing down a hallway. You don’t answer.

No. Please God, no. An all too familiar ringing begins in my ear. You’re gone, and I’m alone, darkness stretching out around me. “Alright, Mr. Evans, that’s time. Please take off your headphones and leave them on the table behind you. The exit is towards your right.” I had danced this dance a million times before, the Operator didn’t have to remind me. This time, I
cannot bring myself to leave. This Memory never fails to wrench my heart from my chest, and today is no different. “Sir, please, a little more time, one more Memory, please, sir”, I’m begging, my left hand grasping the table behind me for support. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mr. Evans. Kindly vacate the room. The next customer will be in shortly.” An emotionless, unfeeling voice. “Please,” I gasp, “I’ll pay double!” The Operator pauses. “Alright, Mr. Evans. Hold your card up to the right-most corner. The camera will scan it and process the payment. At the third beep, put your headphones back on. Happy Re-Living!”. Concluding the unnecessary instructions with the eerily and unnaturally cheerful tagline of Re-Living, the Operator clicks off. I know their system inside out, yet each time, they pretend I’m a newcomer.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.

Lights flash. The scene changes again. My heart is racing. Where are you? What Memory is this? The calmness drowns me as I feel your hand slide against mine, holding onto my fingers. Callouses I know better than my own, a roughness I adore wholeheartedly. I turn around, lifting your hand up and gently kissing your knuckles, one by one. Four kisses. You came, you whisper, I didn’t think you would. The calmness gives way to panic — anything but this one. The Operator, it must have been him, I irritated him, so he exchanged the Tapes, there’s no other explanation. You’re still talking, and you force me to remain present in the moment. You’re here,
for now, that’s all that matters.

Thank you, Tom. Turning up here, driving all the way, it means a lot. Your eyes are weighed down with sadness, your voice heavy with tears. Your eyes are dry, though, no tell-tale signs of glossiness. You’re so strong, I whisper back, but you don’t need to be. It’ll be okay, you’ll emerge on the Other Side. The granules of sand push into the soles of my feet, gritty, grainy, and, for a fleeting second, I have the urge to walk back to my car and put my shoes back on. No, I have to be strong for you. I’m scared, Tom. Voluntarily Crossing to the Other Side, it’s blasphemous. I’ll be labeled a traitor. Your voice quivers, and you close your eyes, taking a deep breath. You’re not wrong, I won’t lie to you, I say. The wind quickens, whistling against the crashing of the ocean. Look at me. Please, Maia. At my urging, you open your eyes, a deep blue, but your icy gaze pierces through me. We don’t know what the Other Side holds. Choosing to go there, it’s never been done before. You have two options: either you disguise the Crossing as an accident, or you ruin your name. Your grip on my hand tightens. Option 2, Tom, there’s no doubt about it. When I go, I want it to be on my own terms, I want to take ownership. If that makes me a traitor, so be it. I won’t Cross as someone I’m not.

Despite the bleak situation, I smile. There’s no one like you, and there never can be. You smile back at my words, sunshine after the storm. If there’s anything on the Other Side, I’ll reach
out to you first, I’ll do my best, you promise. I open my mouth, but you shush me. This world isn’t for me, Tom, I’ve known it for as long as I can remember. You… you still fit in. The only way out for me is the Other Side. I don’t want to leave you, I don’t, you stutter, your words flowing out in a sob, but you plow on, but I can’t live like this anymore. Maybe I’ll find peace on the Other Side. I nod. I wish I could’ve held on to you, found a bell jar large enough, but your spirit would have broken through. You won’t be alone, Tom, not really. I have a diary, it contains each one of our encounters. You slip a leather-bound book into my hands, wrinkled from the corners.

Feed it into the Tapes, give it to the Operators. You did all this, for me? A trickle of warmth creeps down my back at this revelation. Maia. Thank you. I’ll keep you alive. You’ll always be
alive in my heart. You smile, heartbreakingly beautiful. The weather matches my inner turmoil, growing colder as the tide rises. It’s time.

Bye, Tom. I watch you walk away, your footprints fading fast as the water beats against the sand mercilessly. Your hair whips in the wind, the honey strands becoming browner as the
ocean water splashes onto you. I know how it ends, this Memory is ingrained in my head. The murky sky, grey storm clouds, the angry ocean, I see it in my nightmares every day. I can’t run, I can’t escape it. My eyes are fixated on you, as much as my heart screams at me, desperate to look elsewhere. You’re up to your thighs in water, unfazed by the cold. Maia! I yell, despite myself. You hesitate, waist deep in water. I love you! I’ll be waiting! Your head tilts to the side, and I know you heard me. A tear escapes my eye, running down my face before dripping onto my chest. The dam breaks, just as your head disappears underwater. That’s it. You’re gone.

In an instant, the ringing will commence, and the darkness will encompass everything, casting a blanket over the scene in front of me. Right now, though, the second lasts forever. I sit
down on the edge of the water, digging my nails into the soft sand. Peace. Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy, smiling like there’s no tomorrow. I’ll wait for as long as you take to return to me, Maia, I whisper into the violent ocean. In an instant, the blanket falls, and the ringing begins.