In our life, there was a moment that was best for us and we can’t forget the moment no matter how much we try.
That was our best moment.
Once upon a time there was a little wild dog, who lived alone in a corner.
Occasionally, he saw a butterfly fly past. Seeing such pretty little creature, the part of his heart that was not dead would tremble a little. The pattern on those wings caught his eye. He continued to look at those colourful strokes untill they disappeared from his sight and was engraved into the soul.
The little wild dog crawled in the mud and water, with the shade of the trees above his head. The rain that was falling was cold and hit his body like a painful beating. He could only lick himself. When the sun came out, he slowly retreated to his hole, and then poked his head out to randomly say hello to everyone. Everyone laughed at him and said, “The little wild dog is so dirty.”
Everyone avoided the wild dog, thinking that he would made them dirty. But the butterfly floated above his head and said, “Fly with me.” The little wild dog looked at her dumbly and said, “I can’t fly.”
The butterfly said, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ll fly with you and teach you how to fly, you try.”
The little wild dog shouted: “Hi yo!” And jump from a three feet high wall. But the air couldn’t hold him and he fell to the ground with a “thump”, and broke a few ribs.
While lying down on the ground, he saw many dogs running wildly while shouting, “There are bones! There are bones! Don’t be slow lest you find nothing!”
The little wild dog cautiously said to the butterfly, “I’ll go find some bones first or I’ll die out of hunger.”
The butterfly said, “Okay, let’s go quickly. I will help you grab and carry them, so that you can get more bones.”
The little wild dog nodded hard and ran with a limp. His legs hurt when he ran, but he was so happy that he couldn’t feel the pain. He even sang as he ran.
Suddenly, strong wind started to blow, bringing rain and thunder along. The little wild dog thought to himself, “The weather is so terrible. I’m going to die in the this storm before I can get the bone.”
The butterfly flew near him and urged him, “Come on, come on. We have to grab the bones.”
The little wild dog was in pain, but he still smiled happily and said, “Yes, butterfly, let’s go and grab the bones together from now on.”
The little wild dog didn’t notice the mud pit in front and fell into it, the dirty water poured on him, and in the blink of an eye, the water rose to his neck.
Little wild dog was too late to do anything. He struggled desperately to get out but to no avail. He looked at the butterfly flying above him and then desperately jumped. He jumped and jumped, and continued jumping. He couldn’t fly, neither could he jump out the pit. He was afraid that the butterfly would be anxious, so while staying deep in the pit, he laughed and shouted: “I’m coming out! I’m almost out!”
Because he jumped too violently the pain in his body became even more apparent.
The butterfly stopped flapping her wings and stood at the side of the mud pit. She stared at the ugly little wild dog very seriously for a while and asked, “Are we not going to grab bones together?”
The little wild dog nodded vigorously. He grinned at the butterfly with tears flowing down his eyes. He roamed to the depths of his memory and found the happiest bubbles. The more he remembered those happy moments, the more tears flowed down his cheeks. The smile he showed to the butterfly was also salty.
The butterfly tugged on his ear and fluttered her wings. She tugged and pulled, pulled with all her might to get the dog out of the pit.
It was raining heavily so the butterfly’s wings got wet and became harder and harder for her to fly.
The little wild dog looked distressed, he pounced for the last time and lied down at the edge of the pit.
The clumsy little wild dog didn’t want the butterfly to be in this harsh weather and break her wings for helping him. He distressly called, “Go grab a bone!”
The butterfly let go of him.
The world lost its color little by little.
The butterfly said, “My wings broke a long time ago. As long as I can help you, it doesn’t matter if it breaks again.”
The little wild dog still stubbornly said, “Go grab a bone. Please go and grab a bone.”
Its not that he wanted the butterfly to grab the bone because he was hungry. No. He didn’t say it because he wanted the bones but because he was thinking. Thinking that even if she didn’t grab any bone, she would at least get away from here and not let her wings shattered.
The butterfly said, “You will have lots of bones in the future. You won’t be the little wild dog you are now. I wish I could see that day sooner.”
The little wild dog heard her as more tears kept pouring from his eyes. His mouth still muttering, “Grab a bone… grab a bone.”
Although his mouth was muttering this, his heart was thinking, “Let’s grab a bone together.”
In this sentence, he didn’t thought of the object, but the adverb.
It’s not the word ‘bones’ he wanted, it’s ‘together’.
The heavy rain kept pouring down.
The butterfly flew up, circled around him a few times and left.
Tears fell from her eyes as she flew away from the dog.
From the sky where droplets of rain were falling, the little wild dog clearly distinguished which drop was her tears.
The tears fell on its wounded ribs, with a “splatter” sound, the warm tears scalding his already wounded body and heart.
The little wild dog was silent for a while before finally managed to climb out of the pit. He did not shake off the dirty water on him and moved back to his hole.
In the place where he lived, there were no butterfly. No butterfly passed by and flew over his head. No more pretty, colorful wings caught his eyes.
The little wild dog wanted to follow the butterfly but he couldn’t fly.
The little wild dog didn’t dare to shake off the dirty water on his body. Because her tears were still on him. He didn’t want to lose one last thing given by her.
Therefore, he was cold but he still didn’t move.
The little wild dog thought, “Butterfly, the little wild dog didn’t want to leave you. He wanted to go with you to grab the bones. It doesn’t matter if he could grab them or not. He just wanted to be with you, to be together.”
He didn’t have a butterfly, only the tears of hers.
Memories that can not be erased will slowly pile up. The years will take you to the poker table, and the bet will be on yourself. But don’t worry, I will be with you to win the battle.
If you burn, I will accompany you to burn into ashes. We are meant to be more than you could think. If you are silent, I will speak and break off your silence. I am willing to cross the mountains and the seas just to make you laugh.
If you become old, I will accompany you with the scars and pain of my life. If you run away, I will accompany you into the deep night, hidden from the prying eyes. If you leave, I will wait.
I didn’t have a good chance to say “goodbye” to you, and maybe, I’ll never see you again. Our meeting was sadder than happiness, more distant than close, more fragile than strength, quieter than noise.
If there will come a day when you have to put on your backpack and board a ship. Not a very sturdy ship, just a very small raft. Then please, tie up the sails higher, so that I can see the distant white from far away.
Perhaps in the deep sea, when you occasionally glanced at where you left, you could see me, and I could see you.
That would let me know that you landed safely on another land, singing and laughing with your new friends. I hope you no longer remember the painful memories and become despondent.