Persistence is a funny thing. No matter how many times you hop, you still cannot fly. Yet the cricket tries anyway. Of course, the cricket is only a metaphor, as well as the bee. But the concept reflects the real-world implications, realities, and emotions. This is only a framing device to frame a simple yet complicated scenario. The cricket knew about flying and had tried in the past. The cricket enjoyed the feeling of being in the air. At times it felt like if he closed his eyes, his feet would never land. But he always did. Much to his internal despair. It's important to note that this cricket is not a fool. He knows he doesn't need to fly, but he, after his own reflections, has decided it is necessary for him to fly. In his travels, along the forest, he met a bee. As we all know, bees stay in their hives. Social, yet unsocial at the same time. This bee in particular decided to go to a flower far away. At the same time, so did the cricket. Soon, the flower became their first meeting place. They danced and moved their antennae, growing more conferrable. They met several times at this flower, soon meeting at other flowers. The cricket and the bee had an idea one day that excited the both of them. What if they flew together? The bee already had the ability to fly. However, if she were to carry the cricket between her legs, he could fly too. So they met up together and began flying. The joy overwhelmed the cricket. The bee was excited. Time passed, and they flew. One night, however, the bee got tired. The bee enjoyed the flight don't get her wrong. But the bee was tired. The bee landed and the cricket understood. They still met at flowers and they still danced. But they never flew again. As time passed, the cricket began to long for the flying once again. When the bee and cricket met at the flower, the cricket began to bring up flying. The bee had different feelings about flying, however. The bee preferred to fly alone she learned. The bee tried flying with other insects. Ants, wasps, and even worms. But the bee was unsatisfied. It wasn't that the bee hated the cricket, or even other insects. The bee just found she didn't have the same enthusiasm for flying. When the bee first flew with the cricket, she wasn't excited to be flying with the cricket. She was excited to be flying. The cricket wasn't the passenger the bee was looking for. And she was in a place where she wasn't sure if there was a passenger she wanted. The cricket understood and didn't pry further. As time continued to pass, they continued to meet. They danced. They visited new flowers. And the cricket always hopped away. One day, when they met, the bee had news. The bee was going to leave her hive. The bee wanted to see more of the world and wanted to find herself. The cricket was surprised, but not caught off guard. Soon the bee left. The flowers became lonelier. The bee and cricket would visit each other, but these visits were few and far apart. Dancing wasn't fun when you danced alone. Of course, the cricket did his own travels. He continued on until he found the ocean. The ocean was large, and the cricket stayed on the edge of the water. He felt he couldn't swim. The cricket didn't realize how much swimming meant to him until this moment. However, crawling from under the water and into the air came a seahorse. The cricket and the seahorse met at the shore and danced. The cricket forgot what dancing was like. Little time passed before the seahorse asked the cricket if they wanted to swim. He agreed, and when they met up at the shore the seahorse brought the cricket deeper into the wade. Soon, too soon, the cricket swam. The cricket didn't drown mind you, the experience was important for this cricket. The cricket gained a new confidence in himself. The confidence to swim. But after the cricket began to swim, he felt the seahorse wasn't what the cricket was looking for. The seahorse wanted to swim often. The cricket liked to swim, but he wanted more. There was something he couldn't place his antennae on. The seahorse was beautiful, social, and everything the cricket wasn't. The seahorse preferred to dance with schools of fish, and the cricket preferred to dance in small gatherings. The seahorse danced to the waves of the ocean. She preferred the crash and violence of the water. The cricket danced to the wind. He preferred the softness and gentle push of the wind. That's precisely why they couldn't dance together anymore. After some time, eventually, the cricket left the shore altogether. Through all of this, contact with the bee became severely limited. The seahorse wasn't a fan of bees. But the cricket did his best to mitigate. Even when he didn't want to. The cricket hated this. The cricket didn't know what to do. The seahorse taught him to swim after all. But now they could dance again, except for one thing. The bee was once again traveling, even further this time. The bee would come back no doubt about that. But that didn't stop the feeling the cricket began to feel. The feeling of never dancing again with the bee. The feeling of never meeting at flowers with the Bee. The feeling of never flying with the bee. Flying? The bee didn't want to fly with the cricket. So why would the cricket still want to fly with the bee? It was insane, it was selfish, it was... the truth. The cricket wanted to fly again. But not just to fly, he wanted to fly with the bee. He couldn't help it. He hated himself for it. He knew the bee didn't want to fly with the cricket. But the cricket urge to fly with the bee grew quickly, and with a strength he never felt before. The cricket would revisit his memories with the bee. Where they met at a flower and danced all night long. He loved that dance. The way the bee would sway back and forth, while the cricket would flip in the air. It was beautiful. The bee was beautiful. And there was nothing he could do. The bee was so far away. Traveling further than the cricket could go on his legs. But he had to do something. He had to do something. No. He has to do something. Now. Even if it's too late. Even if the bee has already left her new home. Even if the cricket never flies again. He would never meet another bee like her. And he knew this bee was the one. But what should the cricket do? What should the cricket do? What should he do? What should he do... indeed.

End