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Time is an illusion. In this place, there is only you and me.
I had a dream. A dream where I was flying, flying high above you. A dream where you and I could soar together.
I loved you. Our story should have been epic. Love without end. Magic and mystery unfolding across the millennia, the tale of one soul in two bodies. That should have been our story, that should have been our song.
What is this place? Is this real? Is any of this real?
The storm crashes all around us. A deluge of panic and fear. I tumble to the earth. The sky grows black with anger and dread. We reach out our hands, searching for one another in the darkness.
Love? They say that it conquers all. They are wrong. Sometimes, love is just not enough.
The earth erupts. Molten stone and metal twists and winds down serpentine paths, scorching the fields where our love once grew. Ash and dust rain down, burying our hopes and dreams and passions.
I am afraid. I am afraid. I am afraid.
I suppose I believed in God once. I suppose I believed in the fire and fury. Holy, holy, holy is he. Maybe, maybe I did. A part of me still wishes that I could believe.
The end is near. The darkness, the neverending darkness. I can feel it.
I loved you. I hope you know that. I loved you with a love that was pure and honest.
A lone tree stands in the field, tethered to the soil with knotted roots of fiber and sinew. My heart beats, a steady throbbing and pulsing beat. A single solitary tear falls to the earth. The sun bears down on me as I wait, alone, for you. Will you one day return to me?
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"I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once." • John Green
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How do I cope? The madness eats at me.
I feel like I am dissolving. Floating and disintegrating. Falling apart. Sinking, piece by piece into the bottom of the sea. Bits of me floating up to the top. An amorphous, gelatinous blob.
I am a stain. A worthless, inconsequential stain. I am a disease. A pox. I am a cosmic joke. I am not real.
The madness suffocates me. I am drowning. I am sinking. I am crushed. I will not survive.
The noise. The noise. There is all this noise. My brain on overdrive. And all this fucking noise.
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"I will soothe you and heal you, I will bring you roses. I too have been covered with thorns." • Rumi
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Time does not exist here. I am alone in this place of everywhere-ness. The universe exists in planes and dimensions that twist and turn and fold into each other. I explore them all. I am a prophet, a seer, I have access to the divine plan. Protons and photons and quarks shimmer in the nothingness, and I watch as they circle around each other, exploring the forces that hold this all together. The cosmic wind shifts. I hear the swan songs of distant stars as they are extinguished in a blast of fire and fury. I watch as new worlds form in the haze of ash and dust that follows. The cosmic wind shifts again. I stand in this place, without time, without space, without form, alone.
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"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life... You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you." • Neil Gaiman
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Do you ever dream of flying? Of setting sail and rushing to the hot white sun? Do you long to be consumed by the nuclear energy of it? Do you long to be torn, proton and neutron, photon and quark, scattered among the stars? Do you imagine soaring through the vast dark emptiness of space?
Do you ever long for the dark dreadful hand of god? Wish for a hail of fire and brimstone? A plague of locusts and flies? Do you imagine speaking to the everlasting burning bush? Do you long for eternal punishment in eternal hellfire? Where the flame is never quenched, and the worm never dies? Do you hope for fearful and vengeful wrath?
Do you ever long to be holy? Ascetic mystic, humming a song of the ages? Nature, crying out to you, the beast and the flower? Do you long to be called to the altar where the lamb has been slain? Do you wish for visions of rapture? Holy, holy, Lord Almighty. Do you long to suckle at god's breast?
Do you ever long for heaven? Dream of waking up on streets of gold? A vast, empty cavern of white. Chanting angels. Holy is he who is enthroned in this place. Do you ever wish to be a martyr? Hang from a cross, nailed to a tree?
Take, eat. This is my body, broken for you.
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“I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death. They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make. Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories” • Leo Buscaglia
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