Kalopsia

Funeral

Forever after, I believed betrayal tasted like warm honey and mint. It smelled of wild flowers and the rich earth after a storm. It felt like soft caresses of adoration that suddenly turn to pain. Pain. What a funny sensation. So many ways it can be caused. Eventually, you become numb to it. Eventually you don't feel the loss, the grief, the betrayal that often accompanies it. Perhaps that makes you cold, or perhaps you have finally learned to cope. It's hard to tell.

My thoughts returned to the matter at hand. I stared at the person in the coffin, a void of emptiness where the pain should be. This should've hurt more than anything in my life. I only felt relief though. Like a weight had been lifted off my chest. The betrayal should've stung, but I only felt grateful. Maybe that makes me a coward, but I was tired of fighting a war I never signed up for. I didn't want to be the hero anymore. I was tired of paying the price. No one ever tells you how much the heroes sacrifice. They never inform you that it's one of the hardest jobs in the world. I cannot count the number of times my very humanity has been compromised. I have had to ignore my morals so that the world may survive.

The price of being a hero is so high. Higher than I am willing to pay. My eyes drifted over the countless faces of friends, family, strangers- They stopped as my breath caught. His eyes were haunted and broken as he looked upon the coffin. The only person he had ever loved laid there, no longer in this world. I could tell he was blaming himself. The overwhelming grief and self-loathing was written all over his face. I wanted to go over and tell him it wasn't his fault. I wanted to ease that gaping hole in his chest. I wanted him to finally forgive himself, for everything. I wanted him to know I was finally free- free of what? What did I really want? Did I truly want this? Did I want to die? Or did I simply want to be with him? I paused, re-evaluating my actions for the last few years. The numbness was gone as panic filled its place. This wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to go back. I didn't want to be dead. I wanted to be holding him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to have a life and children with him. I wanted him.

My eyes looked upon my own face as I lay in that coffin. No longer was I grateful, relieved, numb. I was a raging inferno of fury- pissed beyond belief. The betrayers were staring at the coffin with almost a dazed look. I wanted to scream at them. I wanted to ask them why. I wanted to hurt them. I want to go back. I begged whatever deities were out there to let me go back. I couldn't leave him alone. I couldn't let him spiral into absolute madness. He was going to become a villain and I didn't want that. He was better than that. Better than them. Better than me.

How could this happen? Suddenly there was nothing. I ceased to exist, and all thoughts stopped. All that was left were the stories about me that had been twisted. Only he would know who I truly was. Soon the world would forget, and not even my legacy would exist. I had disappeared into the void of death, and there was no turning back. This had been my funeral, and what a tragedy it was.