JpSixx26
This is the tale of a soul undone by devotion-
a love so consuming it behaves like illness, resurrection, and curse all at once.
At its centre is a narrator who has spent a lifetime believing love is nothing more than a bodily habit, a phantom sensation of proximity. But that certainty shatters when she speaks. Her voice becomes an event-an explosion that rearranges his inner architecture and leaves him inhabiting a fault-line between agony and grace.
What follows is a descent, or perhaps an ascent through darkness:
A relationship where devotion is indistinguishable from self-destruction, where the body is both prison and altar. He would withstand sickness, decay, even death itself, if it meant remaining tethered to her. His loyalty is not romantic-it is catastrophic. He loves in a way that resurrects and ruins him simultaneously.
When she is hurt, the story transforms into a vigil of vengeance. He envisions himself as the revenant, the dead man who rises for justice, dragging his ruined body through the grave for her sake. Through him, love becomes a holy affliction, a sacred sickness that defies mortality.
Yet beneath every violent vow lies a single truth:
He does not fear agony-he fears abandonment.
He would choose torment forever if it ensured she remained the pulse within his silence.
In this story, love is not salvation.
It is the wound that refuses to close,
the haunting that keeps the dead awake,
and the devotion that turns a ruined man into something mythic.