"Our story takes us back to an ancient tale from Greece, a tragic and unhappy love story." The museum tour guide stopped in front of a statue where a male figure was reaching out, trying to grasp a young woman as she transformed into a large tree, a laurel, to be precise.

"Apollo, the Greek god of the sun, music, art, and poetry, among many other attributes, experienced one of the most tragic and sorrowful love stories." The gaze of the museum visitors was fixed on the beauty of the statues before us, the sunlight streaming through the museum's skylight seemed to caress the face of the female statue.

"When Apollo made a joke about Eros' bow—better known as Cupid—the god became angry and shot Apollo with an arrow of love and Daphne with an arrow of lead. This made Apollo fall hopelessly in love with the beautiful nymph, while she, in turn, despised him."

Everyone on the museum tour paid close attention to the historical explanation of the artwork. I noticed how Apollo seemed desperate and the young woman, Daphne, appeared terrified.

"As a consequence of the emotions stirred by the arrows, Apollo found himself madly in love with the nymph, who wanted nothing to do with him. Daphne fled from Apollo for as long as she could, but Apollo didn't relent and showed no signs of giving up. Frightened and seeing no other way out, she prayed to her father, the river god, to transform her into a tree—a laurel tree. When Apollo finally caught up with her, he grabbed her just as her legs were turning into a rigid trunk and her arms were stretching and transforming into slender branches, covered with leaves that had once been her hair. Legend says that Apollo spoke these words, and I quote: 'If you cannot be mine, then you shall be my sacred tree.'"

The story behind the statue drew a collective gasp of admiration and surprise from much of the audience—it was truly moving. I smiled, making a mental note to never joke with the god Eros.

The tour guide continued leading the way through the museum, but I lingered a bit longer by the statue. It felt as though it didn't want me to leave it behind. The sunlight gleamed off the white, ancient plaster of the statues, momentarily blinding me. I thought I heard the playful laughter of a young boy, but when I blinked, the sensation disappeared.

I hurried to catch up with the group and found them standing in front of more plaster statues. I kept glancing over my shoulder at the statue of Apollo—I could've sworn it wanted me to look at it for much longer. A shiver ran down my spine, making me feel anxious.

"We'll now take a lunch break. We'll meet back here in an hour and a half. Feel free to explore the museum and grab something to eat at our café or restaurant."

The group quickly dispersed. Some left together, chatting animatedly about something I couldn't catch. I had packed my own lunch—if I could save money, I would. My salary didn't come easily. I pulled my lunchbox from my bag and found a quiet, secluded spot to eat.

I spotted a few members of my group eating in the same area. They waved at me to join them.

"Hi, are you enjoying the visit as much as we are?" They were young, around 17 or 18 years old, and seemed excited about the tour.

"It's been very relaxing," I replied cheerfully, opening my container. The lasagna I had made the night before was cold but tasty.

"I loved that first statue."

"The one of Athena?" I asked.

"Yes, exactly that one. Though all of them are beautiful and amazing."

I smiled—I completely understood what the young woman was saying. The statue of Athena was magnificent, just like the goddess it represented.

I had always been passionate about ancient Greece, its myths, heroes, and gods, as well as its culture and devotions.

"So, what's your name?" asked the young man who had waved me over.

"Dove. And yours?"

"I'm Ford, and this is my girlfriend, Eliana." How cute, I thought.

"Nice to meet you. Are you students?"

"Yes, we're studying at the city's university. We're majoring in Art History. I want to work in a museum, and Ford wants to restore ancient artworks."

"That's fantastic!"

Young people having dreams like these made me happy—while they were alive, art and the desire to appreciate it would never die.

We spent the whole lunch talking about the statues and paintings in the museum. I enjoyed meeting the couple; they were lively and happy, both with each other and with their passion for art. As time ran out, we left one of the museum's wings and made our way to the meeting point. We found some of the other participants from today's visit and eventually gathered as one group to head toward the final part of our tour.

"Good afternoon, everyone! I hope your lunch was enjoyable, and for those who wandered through the museum, I hope you had time to appreciate the beautiful art we house here."

With that, we moved forward into the next room.

"This last gallery is dedicated to the goddess Aphrodite, known as the goddess of love. But did you know that for every lover Aphrodite had, she 'transformed' and gave rise to a new aspect of herself? For example, in Sparta, because she was the lover of the Greek god Ares, the people of Sparta knew her as 'Aphrodite Areia.' Therefore, she was not only a goddess of love, but also a goddess of war."

The massive statues and paintings of Aphrodite were stunning, a feast for the eyes. Each sculpted plaster piece was so detailed that I could almost feel the sculptor's hands shaping each part of their works.

The tour ended near the exit. The group said their goodbyes; some, including the young couple, made their way to the gift shop. But I already had so many pins and magnets on my fridge that I couldn't afford to buy more—after all, I had visited this museum many times. I came here whenever I needed to relax and think.

I walked out the door, and it was already getting dark. I had spent the entire day at that extraordinary place. I clutched my bag to my chest, crossed the street, and then I saw a flash.

I felt an overwhelming shock through my body, and the air around me seemed icy. I heard a "bang" and the screech of tires. In the distance, I heard someone scream. I felt my body sprawled on a cold surface. I couldn't move, and as warm liquid trickled down my head, over my face, and into my slightly parted mouth, I realized I had died.

I smiled because the last place I visited was the one I loved most in the world.