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.

Devour Me

“M, my dear, why all the tears?”
“Thanatos,” she whispered.
“It’s been a while my dear M; I missed you. Why have you called me?”
“I… ” she stared at him, the words lost in her mind, the feelings overwhelming, indescribable.

He stepped closer, reaching for her, “M, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” He felt a strange tremor in the air; a different, darker vibration emanating from her sorrow.  She fell to her knees, wrapped her arms around her middle, rocking like a child self-comforting, silent.  He felt her heart beat, fast and erratic, tasted her tears as they fell.

“Thanatos, who is he?” She asked, finally, managing words to escape her lips.

Thanatos paced feeling her emotions roll over him like waves after a tsunami.  Confusion, pain, sorrow, self-hatred, all crashing over him, familiar but something different beneath all the other darkness. He looked at her again, her upturned face, green eyes begging him for solace, for answers, for clarity.  He dropped to his knees but did not reach for her.

“Who?”
“M, my M, the other M,” she sobbed.
Thanatos’s eyes darkened, “Why do you ask me about him?”
“He confuses me, Thanatos.  I don’t understand him.  I don’t know what he wants.  I don’t know what he expects or how to please him or how to make him forget me… or remember me.”
“Why do you ask me about him?”
You won’t let me go and he confuses me.  I don’t know what I am to him, to you.  What does he want? You won’t let me go and I don’t know if he wants me to go or not.  I don’t know what role I’m supposed to play anymore, Thanatos.  Help me, please,” she pleaded.

Thanatos stood and walked to the fireplace, reaching for the poker to stoke the flames, feeling the heat fill the room.  Staring down into the fire he said, “I do not know him.”
She stared at his back confused, “You don’t?”
He turned to look at her, “Why would I know who he is?”
“I…” she started to speak but felt a loss for words.
“What does he do to you?” Thanatos asked darkly stepping closer.

She stood and dropped her arms to her side.  Silent.  Her green eyes holding his gaze.  He advanced slowly, like a predator stalking prey, and she inhaled deeply.  Thanatos took her by the waist, pulled her close, gently kissed her neck.  She dropped her head back, closed her eyes and whispered, “Thanatos, who is to set me free?”

“M what are you doing?”
“Praying for redemption.”
“What? I didn’t know you were religious?”
“I’m not.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I think I need to run again M.”
“Run where?”
“Anywhere.  I need to run, M.”
“Run to me then.”
“What?”
“My dear M, run to me, please.  Stop running away and run to something.”

Hel

I am a scream without a voice
I am a liar
I am unanswered.

I can not escape this haunting
I can not outrun my mind
I can not die.

You are the arsonist
You set the fire
You burned my corpse.

You started this.
I can not stop this.
Only Hel can end this.

I wait for Thanatos
To find me
To save me.