ｊｉｂｂｅｒｉｓｈ

i fell in love with death

Death is the kindest lady I'll ever meet.

She's got this bittersweet melancholy about her, like nobody else I've ever met. It's inexplicable. She holds herself in such a way, and it's enchanting. She's faceted, jaded, from so many years of watching so many endings- yet she still finds the new beginnings. But the sweetest thing about her is that she is inevitable. She knows you will fall into her arms, always, inevitable.

And she is so proud of you. Not for fighting her grasp, but for knowing of her reign, living in her kingdom and knowing your ending, but choosing to live so vibrantly anyway.

I did not meet her with an ending, she did not take me, congruent with her purpose. I met Death in passing and I chose to love her. I rest in her palms, and I trust her to protect me. My soul is in her hands. I am aware that she could watch me end if she wanted. After all, it is she who knows the intricacies of the soul. She is knowledgeable about these things.

But it is not my soul she has taken. It is my heart. She is beautiful- her demeanor, her psychology, it's intriguing and enticing. I want to walk around in her mind and feel her soft, tensile thoughts. She's wise. Though she is the harbinger of endings, she has taught me to romanticize life in a way I could never have before. She has given me a new appreciation for every bit of the world I surround myself with. And though I know she will watch these things become obsolete, it makes them that much better in the moment.

And I hope she is proud of me. Not for fighting her grasp, but for knowing of her reign, living in her kingdom and knowing my ending, but choosing to live so vibrantly anyway.

Death is often considered one who takes. However, to me, she has given so much. I can only hope to repay her. I don't have much to offer her, only juvenile philosophy and unconditional love. I hope she's alright with that.

I have fallen in love with death.