I go by Artemis Blythe. I'm an ex-soldier turned murderer. I was charged with thirty murders and was subsequently sentenced to death.
Preceding my execution, in a twist of fate, I was reborn in a child's body in a dog eat dog world ruled by two fac...
I originally wanted to skip today. I'm really tired as hell today, not gonna lie. Went to school at 6am, returned at 4:30pm, slept for 3 hours and here I am now.
I'm heartened to see the support, so I don't think it would be fair to just skip today because I wasn't feeling it.
Three things you might want to note:
1. Redamancy (plural Redamancies) (rare) The act of loving in return.
2. I am very much aware that the words used in the following chapter is a little elitist. But I'm tackling the subject of love; Something that differs so much from person to person that I have to wax philosophical or get use better words to describe specific things.
3. So, I've made small brackets in bold beside such words to make it easier for anyone that isn't keen on googling every 5 seconds for the words' definitions both for convenience and to let you all better understand what I'm trying to convey.
Without further ado, enjoy the chapter.
~Euphie
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"T-thanks." I stuttered out a reply, breath still a little choked up with emotion. Soft hands cupped my cheeks, gentle thumbs quietly wiping away stray tears,"It's what girlfriends do, right? We look out for each other and stand by their side when they falter."
I pulled away, not wanting to burden her more with this emotional luggage,"Ah, gods, I'm an absolute mess." I wiped away the last of the tears, sniffing a few times.
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"We all have our ups and downs. You just need some time to rebound is all. All that matters is that you feel better now after letting it out." This mellifluous voice of hers seemed to clear any sense of sorrow within my mind. I nodded; It was indeed cathartic to let off steam by crying, embarrassing as it seemed.
Bottling things up, it was a flaw of mine. To so overly internalise everything to a boiling point where it blew wide open in a wave of extremes. Because on Earth, there was no one to confide in.
Who would willingly befriend a murderer? No one, that's who. Even if they believed they would, the gory details would surely scare them away.
Letting out an emotional breath, I peered into the eyes of this woman before me. Locks of silky hair no softer than cotton, a warm, candor (Open and honest) aura around her. Those emerald green orbs of hers never failed to ensorcell (Enchant) me.
I found myself very much smitten, fallen utmost limerence (The state of being infatuated with someone). She was my wonderwall (A person one thinks of all the time) and in a metaphorical terms, my querencia (A place one draws their strength from and feels at home). In a sense, this induratised (Calloused/Hardened) heart of mine had been unhardened, not as callous as it once was.
This emotion had nonpareil, gigil (The irresistible urge to squeeze someone because you love them) quite nearly overcoming my body. This woman, my nepenthe (Something/someone which makes you forget grief), a person who gave me cingulomania (A strong desire to hold a person in your arms) I never wished to be ridden of.
She was, in my eyes, a belle âme (Beautiful soul), with beauty sempiternal, aeonian, eviternal (All 3 mean eternal) Basorexia (Strong urge to kiss someone) filled my soul, this inexpressible opia (The ambiguous intensity of looking one in the eye which can make one feel feel both invasive and vulnerable) making me feel so vulnerable.
Yes, I was aware that this was a little pleonastic (Overuse of words) but to define this feeling was impossible. Because love wasn't just one feeling, right? It would be more akin to a conglomeration of emotions.
How would one describe love?
This illusive emotion of nonsensicality, ineffable and indescribable, only the sentimentality of it would ever be realistically shown.
Love had so many definitions each one differing from person to person. It was difficult to pinpoint what this intangible, incorporeal thing was but what it wasn't was simple.
Love wasn't an overpowering emotion, no. That would be more along the lines of lust rather than love, wouldn't it?
Yet, despite this, many truly do idiotic things in the name of this feeling. Dying for another, holding grudges and vendettas.
Love wasn't about that. It wasn't about taking a hit for another in the name of love. No, that wasn't love speaking, that was irrationality at its finest, a known symptom of love but not love itself.
The dictionary definition stated that love was an intense liking or attraction to a person. But that, to me, seemed like a superficial statement. Intense liking or attraction made it sound as if it were only outer beauty.
If we spoke scientifically, love was a series of chemical reactions. Cold, dead. Yet, wasn't there a beautiful irony that scientists still fell in love?
Love wasn't some clichéd movie trope. There was no love at first sight. If it was physical attraction, then yes. Emotionally? Absolutely not. Unless it was carnal desire, no 'true' first kiss could happen on a first date.
Love wasn't devotion and devout worship of the body, that was lust speaking once more.
We humans easily mix up the two, don't we? After all, if there was no love at the fundamental physical level, there could be no lust, vice versa.
Soulmates. Weird, weren't they? I refused to believe that soulmates existed. Even if Charlie were mine; a soulmate, would dictate absolute bliss, paradise. But in those years I spent alongside her, we fought, just like any couple. And we made up, just like any other couple would. Soulmates, in my mind, wouldn't fight. Perhaps it would be something akin to my past relationship with Lucius, right? No arguments. Look where that got us.
It was just a suspicion of mine. This imprint wasn't to signify soulmates. Rather, a tool, used to trick two sides into believing that they were so they could expand upon this to create a true relationship. With the addition of triggering strong reactions within the mind, it would not be a far-fetched assumption.
Based on my experience with it, it seemed to work. Whilst not instantaneous, I had indeed found myself falling for a woman. A woman going by the name of Charlie Rhode.
The definition of love is nebulous. Embryonic. Something even the greatest of writers, scholars, poets, directors and scientists cannot truly define simply because there will always be a side who says no and disagrees.
But that didn't matter. Everyone had their own definition and I think, I've come to a conclusion for mine.
Love is unnecessary. Not in a bad way. It wasn't like food, a necessity. It wasn't compulsory, obligatory. But love is, on a spectrum between undefinable sorrow and undefinable joy, it was sort of a golden mean. A middle.
Love, to me, was contentment. A time where you didn't want more or less. A balance two people have where their love was no less than the other's. Just to relive that moment over and over and over and over and over again. That singular moment where in life to us humans where we can well and truly say: This is enough for me. Love, to me, wasn't appetence but rather, the fulfilment of it.
Flawed as this thinking might be, it applied to me here. Because I felt content. Satisfied. No need for money, power, influence, land, titles or anything of that sort. Simply being her presence, in my mind, was more than satisfactory.
