Conversations: How Do You Love?

You really got it all wrong, my dear. I am not the monster you believe me to be.

You won’t release me. I am here just for your pleasure.

No, no my dear, I can not release you despite what you think.

You are the god of death, Thanatos.

Yes, I am, but that is what everyone has wrong. The god of death does not actually cause death, does not actually take a life, I am just here for when life is already gone. You, my dear, are the one that does not release yourself. I am always here when you call, am I not? Perhaps you see the wrong one as the monster.

Are you saying he is the monster?

I am not saying anything. I do not know him.

But, he says such sweet things. He always answers when I message. He says we are friends, always, and he will always be there.

Yes, he does. I am always here, too, when you call. Sometimes, even when you do not call, I am here, for you. Is he there when you don’t ask? Does he look for you, want to see you, be with you, even when you do not reach out?

He…

That is all I am saying, my dear. I am always here, for you, because you mean everything to me. I have no control over whether you are released from this world or not, only you do. I will be there after you are released as I am here now.

But you only want me because of my flesh, the beauty, the pleasure you take from my pain.

No, my dear, that is not true. I am here because you make me feel life like no other. You are beautiful, yes, but it is not your physical beauty that I crave. I can have physical beauty from anyone, male, female, young, old, it does not matter. There are beautiful people everywhere. The truly beautiful, like you, have nothing to do with physical beauty. You radiate your pain, your emotions, happy or sad, you radiate so much more than a physical beauty. You care, deeply, you feel, deeply, you simply are breathtaking with the depths of emotions. This world has slowly become devoid of those true, authentic emotions. It has become all about the visual beauty. The aesthetics. The looks being more important than anything else on offer. I take pleasure in you, my dear, your pleasure, your pain, your breath and ache, in you, my dear. I take pleasure in you and I am here now, when you need, I seek you when you don’t need me, I will be there when it is all over, at the end and beyond. I am here, my dear, always.

I… but… that is all I ever wanted, someone to be there, always, for me, whether I’m beautiful or ugly, young or old, in pain or not. I just wanted someone to love me. Are you saying you love me Thanatos?

If you have to ask than I have not shown my love to you properly, my dear. You should feel my love not ask for it. I am sorry for failing you my dear.

But what about him?

What about him?

He is not a god. He is simply a man, here, in this world, like me. Doesn’t he love me?

Do you love him?

What?

It is a simple question, my dear, do you love him?

I don’t know.

So what does it matter if he loves you. Human or god, what does it matter if you do not love in return. You need to love someone and then their love will matter. I would like you to love me, my dear, but even if you do not I will still love you, always. You are the only one that has taken my heart but my words, my thoughts, my feelings, what I do to you and for you does not matter. Only you matter and where you place your love, who you gift it to, that is what matters, my dear. Do you want his love?

I don’t know, I never actually thought about what I wanted. I just, well, if he loved me, if anyone loved me, that was what mattered, right?

No, my dear. You are clearly mistaken on how easily it is to love you. Everyone loves you but you, my dear.

Conversations: Remember Me

Did you ever break a bone? He asked innocently, trying to make small talk.

I broke my foot once, a few years back, when I lived in a four story walk-up.  Moving around with crutches was tough and forget about trying to get up and down stairs with groceries or any other shit.  It was impossible and I cursed the lack of elevator every time I had to leave.

Damn, sounds like a pain in the ass.

It was but I’d still rather have a broken foot for the rest of my life and live in that walk-up again if it meant trading away this depression bullshit.  She fiddled with the salt shaker in the center of the table as she spoke.

Really? Why? He watched her absentmindedly pour salt on the table then press her finger into the center of the tiny hill as she avoided eye contact.

People came to help me then.  They understood the pain of a broken bone, the difficulty to leave the house and added burden trying to do simple tasks.  They checked in every day.  They asked how I felt and cared for the answer, didn’t get annoyed even as it went on for weeks.  They didn’t get frustrated when I said it was too tiring to go out and do anything. I didn’t feel forgotten.  She shrugged and licked salt from her finger, dipping it back into the tiny salt hill and repeating.

You feel forgotten? Don’t they keep in touch now?

She laughed. Not mocking, not laughing at him, just a melancholic sort of laugh.  Clearly you’ve never had any type of mental illness.

No, I haven’t.

When you have a mental illness people forget you. They stop checking on you. They get annoyed that you aren’t… she went silent for a moment searching for the words and poured another small pile of salt as she thought.  They aren’t as understanding.  A broken bone they understand, they don’t understand a broken mind. They get annoyed that you aren’t normal as though I chose this, as though I want to live like this, as though I enjoy barely being able to function most days.  Then they are annoyed when you put on a mask because you aren’t being genuine but I’m just trying to make it from one moment to the next without completely falling apart and… she stopped talking mid-thought again.  She finally raised her eyes and looked at him.

He sat silent, looking into her deep green eyes, seeing the water along the edges never quite becoming tears.  He saw the pain in them; the desire for understanding while expecting none. Is that what you want, to be remembered?

Yes. She responded softly, immediately, without any hesitation.