Too often us humans have made love synonymous with weakness, but I have never known love to be weak.

My father almost drowned when he was seven. In depths of the oasis he struggled for breath, helpless, cold, and afraid. He told me a god had to come and pull him out. He's refused to go in the water ever since.

On my fifth birthday, I accidentally fell into the deep end of a pool. My mother says he didn't hesitate before jumping in. When I asked him if he was scared, my father said "The only fear I had was a world without you."

Years later when my father had left, I got trapped in the abyss under a ruin that had collapsed on me. My frail mother lifted several tons of rubble off me to rescue me from the ghouls that were waiting to devour me. When I asked how she had so much strength she replied, "prayer was all the strength I had".

The one supernatural strength that we humans posses is love. I have never known love to be weak. It has made gods of us.

***

Various gods and demons were mythical beings that were conjured up within humanity for countless periods of time; until they weren't.

Once humans encountered real gods, they did not hesitate to try to regain any semblance of control they once had in their world.

Being in the presence of these deities revealed the true powerlessness and vulnerability that we posses.

Then humanity did what it does best. Like the blood sucking parasites that we are, we latched on and slowly drained their power to drip into our world.

We made them bleed. And with their blood we crafted a supernatural society that was interwoven with gods and demons.

With godsblood : the miracle elixir, we crafted weapons, powered cities, burned it into our flesh to grant us powers, painted the sky with it to cast spells, and built a society that squeezed every ounce of its utility out to serve our purpose.

***

There is so much pain in this world, but not in this room. A cozy room where the aroma of my mother's crafted scented candles permeates a safe and comforting atmosphere.

This protective bubble of a room that I have tucked away in the most precious parts of my mind is where I wander into when I feel anxious about where I am heading towards.

If heaven is good and I like to be bad, how am I supposed to be happy there?

Let's imagine I didn't do what I wanted to do.

Suppose I live a blameless life, denying my true dark nature.

Maybe heaven is a place where you're allowed to be bad.

Perhaps that is why the gods who dwell there allow so much evil.

This room that I try to seclude myself in when my truest self emerges is the only protective layer between reality and my darkness.

I never wanted the throne. I never wanted to lead. I never wanted any of this. I only wanted to make up for all the awful shit I've done in my life.

I am a pathetic little man. I could've done it. I should've saved them all.

But now I must pay the ultimate sacrifice for everyone I love in this room. This room is not empty. It is full of everyone I've ever cared about.

They all stare at me now. A hollow, lost expression in their eyes. I betrayed anyone I ever loved. I betrayed my father, my lover, my home. I know what I did, and I know why I did it.

More than anything I want them all back. I don't want to be alone.

I feel weak, but love prevails. I may be weak, but I have never known love to be.