What’s wrong with me?

“Name one hero who was happy.”

I considered.

Heracles went mad and killed his family; Theseus lost his bride and father; Jason’s children and new wife were murdered by his old; Bellerophon killed the Chimera but was crippled by the fall from Pegasus’ back.

“You can’t.” He was sitting up now, leaning forward.

“I can’t.”

“I know. They never let you be famous AND happy.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

“Tell me.” I loved it when he was like this.

“I’m going to be the first.” He took my palm and held it to his. “Swear it.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the reason. Swear it.”

“I swear it,” I said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes.

“I swear it,” he echoed.

We sat like that a moment, hands touching. He grinned.

“I feel like I could eat the world raw.”

[“The Song of Achilles” by Madeline Miller]

~

Yes, cheating.

Mixing hyperfixations old and new.

But it is Valentine’s week, and I do what I want.

Chasing endlessly tooth-rotting fluff and, yet, inevitably drowning in the most soul-breaking angst.

Damn me.

[Damn THEM]

All my favorite kindred spirits doomed to see their hearts slayed by catastrophic destinies.

Achilles and Patroclus.

Hera and Kanan.

Jayce and Viktor.

Thrawn and Eli.

[Seriously, what’s wrong with me?]

And at the same time, I am unable to live without breathing every detail of their exquisite bonds, their divine mutual understanding.

Commitment, patience, adoration.

~

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell, I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth.

I would know him in death, at the end of the world.

[“The Song of Achilles” by Madeline Miller]

~

Surviving just with the creation of a space in my brain where they do not become sworn enemies, or are damned to perpetual loneliness, or, well, DIE.

A space in which they can smile, gently.

Dream and love.

And tell each other bedtime stories.

[Photo: the wonderful commission was created by @lucenorthstar]