Ten Ways To Say I Love You

A Dagger To The Heart

Dear Juliet. I could relate to her pain. Black misery painted on a blood red heart. Death would be more bearable than life without Romeo.~ Marilyn Grey, The Life I Now Live

What a terrible thing it is to be in love with someone who can you know can never be with you. If you love someone, and they love you back, but fate drives you apart, should you really be in love?

Of course. Fuck the idea of should be together. People should be together, but they aren't. Doesn't make the love any less real than before. We don't know why we fall in love with the people we do, but we can't help it. After all, fate is what brings people together, but who says it keeps them together? More often, it is what drives them apart.

However sad your story is, it's nothing compared to this one.

The story of Love and Death is a tragic and unforgiving one. But the worst part is, it's a never ending one. The horrible thing about being immortal is the pain is there, all the time, threatening to make you go insane. All the great lovers were able to have an end to their shitty stories, and live on in a happy place together, if you believe in heaven, and all that.

But Love and Death will never have that. They are the original story of star-crossed the lovers, the embodiment of pain.

Oh look at me here, being an asshole of a narrator. I haven't even introduced the main characters of our tragedy here.

Death. What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think of death? A tall man, cloaked in black, perhaps? His face covered by a mask, dark, brooding eyes, with skin that's horrible and pale. Maybe he's crude and awful.

You wouldn't expect a sympathetic young woman, would you? One who has hair like sunshine, and eyes like a cloudy sky. One whose smile disarms warriors and causes stares from all those around. Who said Death had to be miserable? Why couldn't Death be sorrowful, and respectful? Why did Death have to be so cruel and unforgiving? Why couldn't Death also embody love? After all, Death sees people in their last moments, when they show their true self.

She was Death. And she was a vision. A kind young woman who didn't discriminate at all. One who showed kindness to philanthropists and murderers all the same. Who had a heart so pure that it would never be tainted. She was honest, though. Why do you think so many people fear her? Because they must abhor from their lies and tell the truth.

What about the other side of the equation? Love.

Love. Supposedly a beautiful young woman, who never wanted anything but happiness for anyone. A woman who was clothed in the colors of love, red, pinks, whites, all colors. One who was the picture of kindness.

What a fucked up lie. Love brings the most pain of all. You wouldn't expect a young man, with hair as black as night, eyes as green as the sea. One whose powers devastated empires, caused countless deaths, tore through families, friends, and people. Who ever assumed that Love was a nice thing obviously had never been in it. Sure, Love is passionate, wonderful, powerful and important. But I never said, nice, did I? In the end, Love rips apart a person while they are alive, and shows their true nature.

He was Love. And he was a monster. A brutal young man who didn't care who fell prey to his powers. He didn't enjoy happy endings. Why do you think it's really sad love stories that live on? No one remembers the happy endings. Why do you think the story of Romeo and Juliet lives on? The most famous couple in history had a tragic ending.

Death and Love sound awfully alike, don't they? Both are perceived to be the exact opposite of what they truly are.

Just remember when I tell you the story, it hasn't ended.