My Butterfly

crowd.
    I anxiously twisted the mic in my hands, as I felt the bright lights return to my face. Then, within seconds, I lifted my head and opened my eyes. The white and yellow rays blinded me, but it didn’t matter—not this time. Nothing mattered, except that she was out there. I brought the mic to my mouth, and soon, everything I had left in me—every hope, every dream, every bit of strength—came rushing past my lips:

“The sun’s a settin’ on Cedar Lake
While that autumn fog settles in
The fish aren’t bitin’
Crickets sing
Just me and an old friend
Remembering the good ol’ days
When we were just kids
Startin’ trouble, chasin’ old flames
The what-ifs, the what-might-have-beens
Until slowly the conversation dies
And I know that he knows
Cause the next thing he says
Is, buddy, don’t tell me lies,
How does the story really go?

Does she ever cross your mind?
Does she ever steal your nights?
Is she still a part of you?
Do you ever wish she were still by your side?
And what would you do?
If she walked up here tomorrow
And told you that she loved you?
Would you drop it all and run to her?
Would you tell her you love her too?
Or would you simply send her home?
And tell her you’ve moved on?
Tell me, buddy, what would you do?

Then I looked at him with two, sad eyes
And I said,
More than every once in a while,
More than most dreams,
More than just my heart,
More than anything,
More than you know,
And more than I can say,
I’ve loved her more
Every passing day

And every time I close my eyes,
She’s here with me
Her soft, green eyes,
Her hand in mine
It’s her I see
And I tell him,
I wish your dreams kept you close
Or that one led you back to me
And that I’d trade it all
For the day he didn’t have to ask me,
Tell me, buddy, what would you do?

Now, I’m tellin’ you,
Julia, My Butterfly,
More than every once in a while,
More than most dreams,
More than just my heart,
More than anything,
More than you know,
And more than I can say,
I’ve loved you more
Every passing day
Julia, I’ve loved you more
Every passing day.”
 
    I sang the last line and then let my eyes fall to the wood under my feet. The piano grew silent soon after, and the lights faded again. I listened through the quiet for a moment. Then, suddenly, the crowd’s cheers returned, and they were the loudest they had been all night.
    After several moments, I lifted my head, and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Alex near the back of the crowd, waving his skinny, little arm again. I narrowed my eyes. There were spots still floating around everywhere. But I could see him just enough to notice that he was dramatically lifting and lowering his arm, and he was pointing. I stood up. It looked as if he was pointing toward the parking lot.
    “Jules,” I whispered to myself.
    In no more than a second, I was off the stool and darting toward the side of the stage.
    “Will, where are you going?” Matt asked, grabbing my arm and stopping me fast.
    “She’s leaving,” I said.
    He loosened his grip on my arm, and I took off again.
    “I’ll be back,” I shouted over my shoulder.
    I made it to Lou behind the stage, jumped behind the wheel and turned the key. There was a second way out of the field. It was the same way we had gotten the trailer in. I flipped on my brights and stepped on the gas.
    After a rough and fast hundred yards, my wheels hit the blacktop, just as a car was pulling out of the parking lot. I sped and caught up to it. Its license plates were from Tennessee. So, unless someone else had come across the state boarder to see this concert, it was a rental, and it was her. I quit tailing her and fell back. There were two places she could be going. She was either on her way back to her new job and her new life in South Carolina or she was going home—either way, I’d follow her.
    The sedan slowed when it reached a highway that led out of town. I tapped my brakes and watched as the car turned and hit the blacktop. Then, I knew for sure; it was Jules, and she was going home.
    I slowed up and fell farther behind her. I didn’t want to scare her. And through bends and turns in the path, I stayed just close enough that I could see her as she made her way down the highway and then onto the winding gravel road.
    Eventually, she made the last turn before her parents’ house. I watched the sedan kick up a dust trail as it neared the white-graveled drive, and I waited