The Fire That Lasted Until Sunrise

The sun slipped behind the hills, and the scenery dissolved into darkness. Yet somehow the stars began to twinkle, as if something was still there to believe in. Under those scattered lights, we decided to start a fire—if only to push back the darkness around us. Of course, no one was eager to go searching for twigs. It was much easier to lie on the ground and stare at the sky. Watching the stars reminded me how big the world really was. There were billions of stars out there; we didn’t have to wait for the sun alone to give us light.

I finally stood up and started gathering twigs. Dan was still inside the tent. He was the same guy who had slowed us down the entire hike, constantly repeating, “Come on, guys, let’s rest.” Now that he finally had the chance to lie down, he probably wouldn’t get up even if a snake slithered across his chest. Josh followed me to collect the twigs. There were small branches scattered here and there, mixed with dry leaves from the sugar maple trees. The leaves had turned brown with fading shades of red that still clung to their edges. Pine branches lay scattered nearby as well, perfect for starting the fire.

The first spark cut through the night like a decision finally made. For a moment it glowed weakly, but soon the dry leaves caught the flame. The fire slowly grew as we added twigs and small branches. Its light pushed back the darkness, and the warmth spread through the cold air. That warmth was enough to lure Dan out of the tent.

We decided to make tea. We told Dan to bring the thermos and the tea bags, but the warmth had only deepened his laziness. My voice clearly wasn’t reaching his brain.

“I’ll get it,” Josh said. He walked over to the tent and came back with the thermos, the tea bags, and a small zippered bag that looked like sugar.

I poured hot water into the cup and dropped in a tea bag. Slowly the water turned a deep reddish color. Dan told Josh to make his tea sweet. The tea was so hot it nearly burned my lips on the first sip, but it eased my throat as it went down. I had just started enjoying it when I heard Dan shout, “What kind of bullshit tea is this?”

Josh had added salt instead of sugar. Dan jumped up and started chasing him while Josh ran toward the tent laughing.

I stayed by the fire, listening to the crackling branches and the chirping crickets, ignoring the playful shouting coming from the tent. I stared into the flames.

Josh returned and sat beside me. “So,” he said, “that girl’s ghost has followed us even here.”

“Still thinking about her?”

The warmth of the fire wrapped around me like a tight hug. I didn’t answer immediately. The flames moved as if they knew something I didn’t. Why her? Out of all the faces in the world, why does hers remain when the others fade?

“Come on,” Josh said. “There are millions of girls.”

Millions, yes. But none who rearranged my silence the way she did. None who turned a notification into a heartbeat. None who made absence feel louder than sound.

Why her?

I don’t know.

Out of a world loud with faces,

why does hers stay?

Why do her eyes

hold my attention

longer than my own plans?

Why does a single smile

undo the discipline

I built for years?

Why does her voice

turn ordinary moments

into something worth remembering?

Why does her kindness

feel undeserved like

I am standing in light I didn’t earn?

Why does my mind

Runs to get her sight

As if she will be the last

Person I would like to

See before I die?

Why waiting for her

Answers feels like eternal

Yet her replies gives me

Power to rise from deathbed?

Why her praise

Feels like the biggest achievement

To me as if I conquered the world?

I don’t know.

I just know that

something in me

stands up straighter

when she walks into the room.

Why her?

Maybe because she is everything

I am trying to become

focused, alive, certain.

Maybe I don’t just want her.

Maybe I want to be worthy

of standing beside her.

Maybe love is not logic.

Maybe it is recognition.

Maybe somewhere in her laughter

I saw a version of myself I haven’t met yet.

With that poem, I finished the last sip of my tea. “Wow, I am not impressed with your writings but I was impressed with your feelings towards a random girl," said Josh. "Does she even know you? Will she ever look back?"

Will She Ever Look Back?

Will she ever look back,

or am I just the shadow

stretching behind her certainty?

The sun never apologizes

for who it warms.

It doesn’t turn to count the silhouettes

it leaves behind.

Will she ever look back

the way sparks do

before they disappear?

Will she ever look back

and notice the boy

who memorized the way she laughed

but never had the courage to interrupt it?

Does she even know me?

Or am I just a name that

flickers on her screen

between better conversations?

Will she ever look back?

I don’t know.

Maybe I was never meant

to be remembered—

only to remember.

But maybe the real question is

when I finally walk forward,

Will I?

This created a tense moment and silence among us that we can hear and feel the soft howling winds forcing the fire to dance around.

Josh broke the silence, “Will she look back?” he repeated in a fake poetic voice. “Bro, she wouldn’t look back if you tripped and rolled down this hill right now.”

All of us laughed and he asked me, "Would you die for her?"

"No. I wouldn’t even die for leg day and that already feels like death.”

“Good for you, trying to be Romeo in this era, only deserves jokes.”

Dan left in the middle of the conversation and brought a bottle of Rum, now the conversation has started, let’s keep going until the sun rises, he was determined. I hesitated to drink but Dan forced me, “Look, first of all you will rarely see me serving people drinks and second let me pull out the ghost of that girl for good.”

He poured deep amber rum into the glass and topped it with hot water from the thermos. The smell of caramel rose with the steam and mixed with the warmth of the fire. I always believed my heart was made of stone, but the heat of the drink began to melt something inside me. The steel nerves I was proud of softened, and with every pulse of blood I could see a faint picture of Francesca. It was my second glass. I didn’t remember finishing the first and didn’t try to. Josh and Dan were murmuring somewhere beside me, but I had already wandered into the quiet world of Francesca.

Oh Francesca

Oh Francesca,

were you ever real

or did I build you

from late-night replies and imagination?

Did I fall for you,

or for the silence

after you stopped?

I was dreaming with these things in mind and Dan suddenly kicked the leg of my chair. The glass slipped in my hand and rum spilled over the grass.

“Are you out of your mind?” I shouted.

“Yes,” he said calmly. “Especially when it comes to men falling in love. I don’t want you to fall into that deep well of nothingness.” He poked the fire with a stick, staring into the flames. “We men keep walking toward that well thinking there’s water at the bottom. We keep believing that someday we’ll find it. But most of the time… there’s nothing there. And before you realize it, you’re just stuck in the dark.”

Josh and I looked at each other. Dan continued, now sounding strangely philosophical.

“You know the saying—if you have feet, you can find shoes.”

I smiled and shook my head. “Alright, philosopher,” I said. “You should go to sleep. The alcohol has clearly taken control of your brain.”

Josh laughed.

“And if you keep talking like this,” I added, “I’m recording this and sending it to Ciphra. Then you’ll spend the next three days calling her to explain what you meant.”

Dan immediately went quiet. Josh burst out laughing.

I leaned back and continued teasing him. “Look, the saying might be true. If you have feet, you can find shoes. But that doesn’t mean every shoe is good.”

Dan frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” I said, “you can’t just wear the first pair you see. What if there’s a stone inside and you can’t walk? What if the shoe is torn?”

Josh joined in. “Exactly,” he said. “You’re out here wearing expensive Nike shoes when you could also be walking around in pink Crocs.”

Dan looked offended. “Pink Crocs?”

Josh nodded seriously. “Yeah. Comfortable, questionable, and impossible to take seriously.”

We both started laughing. Josh wiped his eyes and added, “And honestly, I don’t trust people like you.”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “What people?”

“People who have a girlfriend,” Josh said, pointing at him, “and then give us lectures about how women are the problem in life.” He shook his head. “No chance.” Josh leaned closer to the fire. “What do you want us to do? Become those mysterious unmarried uncles your future kids will ask about?” He put on a deep voice. “‘Kids, this is Uncle Josh. He chose philosophy and loneliness.’”

I glanced at Dan, expecting him to laugh. He didn’t. The firelight revealed the tight nerves around his cheekbones. His face was red, but his eyes were wet—as if the fire outside him was trying to escape through tears.

“I don’t have a girlfriend anymore,” he said quietly.

I instantly changed my expression from laughing to silence but Josh had not seen his expression so he continued laughing.

“I do not have a girlfriend anymore!” he shouted and silenced everything around us.

He grabbed the glass as if he was going to squeeze it into paper and chugged half of the hot rum. Immediately, I told him, “What happened? Stop drinking now. You should not drink now.”

He said no, since it has already started let me finish this, let me teach you the lessons. He started how much he loved her and in the end, she left him for someone once she moved out to another place. We remained silent. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it from the fire. I stared. Dan hated cigarettes.

“You smoke now?” Josh asked.

Dan exhaled slowly. “This is what love did to me,” he said. “Turned me from a lover into a chain smoker. After she left, she also took all my brightness of life and left me in such darkness that I have started to embrace this darkness and this smoke of cloud helps to stay in darkness."

What Have You Done?

If I could forget you with smoke

I would have traded breath for it.

But all it did was dry my lungs.

Let them dry.

Let them die.

Let the air stop entering

the place

that once carried

the warmth of your breath.

If I could forget you with alcohol

I would have chosen it over water.

But it only tore through my liver.

Let it break.

Let it shatter quietly.

Maybe pain will drown

the way your name

still floats

in every silent night.

If I could forget you with tobacco

I would have replaced it for the taste of water.

But it only dried my mouth.

Let it dry.

Let it crack.

So that every kiss we shared

turns to dust

before it reaches my memory.

If I could forget you with video games

I would have replaced them with sleep.

But they only rotted my mind with empty hours.

Let it rot.

Let it decay.

So the memories fade—

the future we once imagined,

the warmth of your arms,

the quiet language our bodies once spoke.

If I could forget you with drugs

I would have replaced them with food.

But they only weakened my heart.

Let it break.

Let it break again

and again

until one day

it forgets how to

beat for you.

Until one day

It forgets how to

Beat for you

“See?” Dan said, exhaling smoke into the cold air. “Love is the only addiction that doesn’t come with a warning label.”

The silence that followed lasted longer than any of us expected. The fire crackled softly, sending sparks into the dark sky like tiny stars trying to escape the night. Josh poked the fire with a stick.

“Great,” he muttered. “One of us is hallucinating romance, and the other is slowly dying from it.”

Dan and I didn’t laugh. Josh noticed. For once, he didn’t make another joke. He leaned back against the log and sighed.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s be serious for a second.” His eyes turned toward me. “Are you sure you’re in love with her… or just in love with the version of her your brain painted?”

The question hung in the air. I didn’t answer. Because the truth was uncomfortable.

Josh continued, his voice calmer now. “You barely know her,” he said. “You know her smile. A few conversations. The way she walks into a room and suddenly you sit a little straighter.” He tossed another stick into the fire. “But that’s not a person yet,” he said. “That’s a sketch.” He pointed toward my notebook. “Your brain finished the painting.”

Dan looked up from the fire. “So what are you saying?” he asked quietly.

Josh shrugged. “I’m saying sometimes we fall in love with potential, not people.” He paused, then added, “And you have to understand something — a beautiful face doesn’t guarantee a beautiful heart.”

I looked at him. “Well, if she doesn’t have a beautiful heart,” I said, “why was she helping a blind man cross the road? Why does she volunteer to teach orphan kids?” I leaned forward, feeling my voice grow stronger. “She has everything, Josh. I see her running in the park in the morning, working hard in the office during the day, reading books in the evening.” I shook my head slowly. “She’s… too perfect.”

Josh watched me for a moment. Then he sighed. “And this whole ‘I’ll never find someone like her again’ thing?” he said. He shook his head. “That’s fear talking. The world has eight billion people in it.” He gestured toward the dark forest surrounding us. “You just noticed one star… and decided the sky ends there.”

Josh poked the fire again and looked at me. “Alright, philosopher,” he said. “What if she has someone else in her life?”

The question didn’t sting the way I expected. Maybe the fire had burned something out of me. I watched a spark drift upward and disappear into the dark.

“You know,” I said slowly, “if you like a flower, you pluck it.”

Josh nodded.

“But if you love a flower,” I continued, “you water it every day and let it grow.”

For a moment none of us spoke.

“I think you might be right,” I admitted. “Maybe I’m a little in love with the version of her my mind painted.” I stared into the fire. “I’ve never spent more than ten minutes with her. Everything I know about her is what she shows the world — a smile, a few words, a moment here and there. Maybe what I’m holding onto isn’t her. Maybe it’s potential.”

The word lingered in the air. Potential is intoxicating. But potential without shared experience is fantasy. And fantasy feels intense because nothing challenges it. Reality always does. I exhaled slowly.

“If she has someone else,” I said quietly, “I think I’d still be glad I met her.”

For the first time that night, the thought didn’t feel like a knife. It felt like a quiet truth. Maybe love was never possession. Maybe it was simply gratitude. I looked at the fire and spoke almost to myself.

You are Beautiful

You are beautiful

even if you never become mine.

Beautiful

like a sunset that belongs to no one

yet still stops the world.

I am grateful that

my eyes once met your light

even if my hands

never hold it.

Some flowers

are not meant to be picked.

Some are simply

meant to be seen

and remembered.

I saw you once

on a glowing screen.

A brief moment

in a restless world.

We spoke a little.

We laughed a little.

And somehow

that was enough to

leave a mark.

Maybe our paths

will never cross again.

Maybe this is where

the story ends.

But some people enter

your life quietly

just to show you

how deeply a heart can feel.

Not every love is meant to stay.

Some arrive only to

remind you that you

are still capable of wonder.

You are beautiful.

You are beautiful.

Dan stared at the ground. “So what about people like me?” he asked quietly. “The ones who already plucked the flower and watched it die?”

Josh tossed him a marshmallow. “Then you learn to grow another one, idiot.”

Dan looked at it. “That's your wisdom?”

Josh shrugged. “Look around.” He pointed at the fire. “This wood used to be trees. Now it's warmth. Life recycles pain.”

For the first time that night, Dan smiled.

I watched the fire for a moment before speaking. “Life was never meant to stay still,” I said softly. “Look at this fire. It burns like it will last forever… but eventually it won’t. It will turn into cold ashes.” I nudged a small piece of wood into the flames. “Everything ends, Dan. Misery ends. Joy ends. The trick isn’t holding on forever. The trick is learning when to let go.”

Josh nodded slightly.

“If something in your life is valuable,” I continued, “it might come back someday. And if it doesn’t… then maybe it was never meant to stay.”

Josh leaned forward and added, “Loving someone means attaching your heart to them.” He held his hands apart like he was holding something fragile. “It’s like placing your heart inside glass. And one day—that glass will break.” He looked at Dan. “Because nothing is permanent.”

Dan sighed. “So letting them go is the answer?”

“Sometimes,” I said. “But you also have to make sure you’re not watering a dead plant.”

Dan reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. For a moment he stared at it. “I was about to interrupt this emotional therapy session,” he said. Then he tossed the entire pack into the fire. The plastic crackled. The paper curled. “I don’t need this to survive anymore.”

Josh and I both smiled.

Dan looked at me again. “You’re going crazy over Francesca,” he said. “But what if one day… you don’t feel the same about her anymore?”

I exhaled slowly. “That’s a hard question. But honestly… I’ve already lived that story once. When I was in high school,” I began, “there was a girl I used to see every day on the ride home. We were in the same van. She never really spoke to me. But every day, before she got off, she would turn and say… ‘Bye.’” I laughed quietly. “I never realized how much that tiny word mattered. That single ‘bye’ slowly made me fall in love with her. I never even asked her a real question. And she never asked me one either.”

Back then, I felt powerless. I wasn’t in good shape. I struggled in school. I didn’t really have friends. I was so desperate just to know more about her that I searched the school portal and guessed her name through trial and error. When I finally found it, I made another social media account just to see her photos. I didn’t even have the courage to send her a request.

But something strange happened. Seeing her pictures… gave me motivation. I started working out. I studied harder. I pushed myself every day. I went from C grades to A’s. I mastered organic chemistry. I got good at math and physics. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was becoming someone.

Eventually… she noticed. She was the one who sent the friend request. But by the time that happened—the feeling had already started fading.

Josh raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” I said. “The intention stayed the same. But the destination changed. The girl I once thought I would love forever… I never even told her. I just left that chapter behind and kept walking.”

I looked back into the fire. “And maybe if something like that happens again… maybe this time I’ll just accept life for what it is. The small moments. The brief connections. The strange people who walk through your life for a while.”

And if one day

her name no longer trembles

inside my chest—

I won’t mourn the silence.

I’ll sit by another fire.

I’ll listen to wood surrender to flame.

And I’ll remember

that the beauty was never only her.

It was the way my heart learned to feel.

None of us spoke for a while. Then Josh suddenly pointed toward the horizon.

“Hey.”

We all turned. The darkness in the east had started to fade. The sky slowly turned silver, then gold. The sun rose quietly over the mountains. And for the first time that night, the fire didn’t feel like the only light left in the world.