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like Renaissance etc but we're only having fun with them. No infringement
is intended.
LONGINGS
By Ruric
I loved you for a long, long time,
I know this love is real,
it don't matter how it all went wrong,
that don't change the way I feel
and I can't believe that time's gonna heal
this wound that I'm speaking of
there ain't no cure for love.
Leonard Cohen, Ain't No Cure For Love
I didn't want him the first time I saw him.
Difficult to believe now isn't it.
I'd heard so much about him, the stories, the gossip, the rumours. You know
how *that* sort of thing goes. So when I finally got to meet him I was half
expecting my reactions to go one of two ways. It was just this strange premonition
- that he was the sort of person you could never be *indifferent* to.
I thought I'd either hate him on sight, that he'd be cocky and clever, have
that superior kind of attitude that grows out of being competent at what
you do, and knowing that so many people follow your every move, admire and
respect you. That kind of thing can go to your head. I've met too many people
in my time who make it big and forget where they came from. That they were
once like the rest of us. Somewhere along the line they start to lose their
humanity, until there is nothing left but ego, and they start to look down
on the rest of us. Want us to become their worshippers, their congregation,
as if, without us, their existence can't be justified.
Alternatively, it could have been one of those thunderbolt from heaven things.
I know you know what I mean. That feeling you get when you see someone across
a crowded room for the first time. Where your stomach lurches like you've
just fallen off a cliff, your knees turn to water and the only thing you
are aware of is the pounding of your heart, and the struggle to breathe
through a throat that seems to constrict.
In the event, to my surprise, it was neither.
He walked across the square and all I saw was a short, no, make that small,
unassuming blond guy.
I can remember standing there thinking, 'So that's him.' Funnily enough
somehow I'd expected him to be taller, bigger, larger than life. But there
was no instant dislike, or any thunderbolts for that matter. Chalk that
up to experience and making wild assumptions. You'd have thought by now
I'd have learned not to judge people on gossip.
He was busy and I was trying to stay out of the way so it wasn't until later
that night that I really got to meet him, as opposed to just seeing him
in the distance.
The festival was well underway by the time we came face to face, but I'd
been watching him carefully as he moved through the crowd. He definitely
had a way with people. A ready smile, a joke, a few whispered words. I found
I resented his effortless ability to put people at ease. It's never been
that simple for me. It raised too many painful memories, made me completely
aware of my own ineptness. You see I've always been awkward, self conscious
and shy.
Maybe it wouldn't be so difficult to dislike him, after all.
And then he was standing in front of me. Introducing himself, hand held
out in greeting, laughter and joy brimming in his amazingly blue eyes, a
sunny smile hovering around his lips.
It was one of the defining moments of my life.
A brief, few seconds that seem to draw out into an endless, breathless,
eternity as time slows and almost stops. One of those times you realise
that, no matter what the rest of the world is doing, you have reached a
cross roads.
Two clear paths - I could take his hand or I could turn my back on him.
For a moment, I couldn't think, and I was paralysed by indecision.
It would have been so much easier to turn and walk away, not to look back.
To stay safe and alone in my own world. Not to allow him in. I know I tucked
my hands behind my back, out of harm's way, unwilling to reach out to him.
Felt the hot blush of shame rise to stain my cheeks at my own rudeness.
Saw the confusion and hurt in his eyes. He didn't understand why his offer
of friendship was being refused. I swear, I don't even remember making a
decision. I saw my hand reach out, take his, grasp his wrist.
I got my thunderbolts.
His touch was electric. Heat seemed to flood into me from that simple grip
and for a moment I forgot everything, forgot to breath, forgot to blink,
I think my heart may even have stopped. I was trapped in the blue of his
eyes. He'd barely spoken to me and yet he'd broken down the carefully constructed
walls which surrounded my heart. Walls I'd spent years building, against
exactly this eventuality. They crumbled to dust beneath the simplicity of
his touch and his smile and his look.
I knew at that moment that I'd opened myself up to a world of longing and
pain and desire.
That there would be no cure for it.
That I would have to live with it.
And, without a shadow of a doubt that it was worth it.
That was our first meeting.
***********************************
I knew people who knew him. So in the end I started moving on the periphery
of their crowd.
I saw the way people were drawn to him, like moths to a flame. He was an
incorrigible flirt and an inveterate hugger. Women just couldn't walk past
him without reaching out to touch him. Sliding an arm over his shoulders
or around his waist. Leaning close to whisper in his ear, or stare into
his eyes. Reluctantly relinquishing their hold on him as someone else arrived.
Even men couldn't resist, you'd see them slap him on the back, or sling
an arm companionably around him.
He loved people. Loved entertaining them, spinning stories and tales of
adventure. Telling jokes, never afraid to poke fun at himself and his own
mistakes. In crowds and at festivals you'd see him move from group to group,
see their faces light up as he joined them. Then, when he moved on, they'd
continue talking, but you could see their gazes searching the throng, looking
for his presence, a kind of lost look in
their eyes until they'd established where he was. Spotted that blond head
as it moved through the masses.
He was just one of those people.
Warmth positively radiated outwards from him.
And as for me, well I knew I shouldn't have been there. Knew I was getting
myself into trouble - again. But he'd broken down all my defences and I
could no more rebuild them than I could stop the sun rising in the morning.
I wanted to warm myself at the flame of his soul, let it take away some
of the coldness inside, banish the loneliness I've carried around since
I was a child, which increased with the rejection we all endure as adults.
And he let me.
He was as generous with his time and smile to me, as he was to everyone
else.
I'd never felt this protective about someone before. And the strength of
my feelings took me quite by surprise. I just wanted to wrap my arms around
him, keep him safe in my embrace. I thought it was a joke then, that he'd
never need anyone to protect him. His litheness and grace emphasised my
clumsiness. I felt so ungainly beside him. I swore to myself then, made
a promise to the gods, that if anyone ever hurt him I'd hunt them down,
render them, slowly, limb from limb, and dance upon their grave.
I didn't know then how prophetic that was to be.
Sometimes it was painful to be around him. It hurt to see him, to know that
when he went away at the end of the day he went with someone else. That
he'd never come home with me.
He must have known how I felt about him.
I'm sure it shone from my eyes every time I looked at him, was obvious with
every gesture I made. But he never mentioned it - mostly out of concern
for me. We danced around the issue once or twice, but unrequited love is
such a bitch, and there's really no polite way to raise the subject. However,
we both knew that although he shared his friendship, affection and love
with so many, that his heart and soul belonged irredeemably to another.
That was the one, certain fact at the centre of his existence.
Life and vitality seemed to brim from him. So much contained within that
small form - sometimes it was almost too much. He'd positively bounce with
energy barely contained. He was infectious to be around. Even on a bad day
being in his presence would lift the gloom which surrounded me. He was light
and warmth and laughter and fun.
And now he's gone and it's like someone has stolen the sun.
We kneel here in the dirt in a world that had gone cold and grey and mourn
his loss.
But the horrific thing is, that he isn't really gone. There is no body.
No end to this.
In fact for us it's just the beginning.
We, his friends, the ones who cared for him........no make that the ones
who loved him, we know what we have to do. Know what the reality of that
may be.
I do. Honestly.
I'm just like the rest of them.
In denial.
In pain.
Heart broken and emotions shattered. Unable to comprehend how this could
have happened. There must be some reason, some logic to it - but I can't
see it.
Tears on my cheeks, a soul deep pain inside. It feels like someone has stuck
a sword into my vitals and twisted it. There will never be an end to this.
Can't believe this pain, this agony will ever go away.
People say time dulls pain - but not this.
Not this betrayal of everything he was.
A hand on my shoulder.
"It's time to go."
We stand in a circle, each of us extend our right arm, hands joined in the
centre.
I meet their eyes, one by one, as they meet mine.
See the same thing in each.
Loss, sorrow, longing and a grim determination to see this out to the end.
We don't need to say anything to one another. We know how we feel. We have
each other for support. It's going to have to be enough - it's all we have
left.
That and our memories of him.
We turn away in silence, check weapons and mount.
It's only a short ride and then we'll be face to face with him.
Eight of us to battle a god.
Eight of us to try and take down Dahak where the gods of Greece have failed.
It's a slim chance, but one that we have to take.
Because we know the truth.
We're not trying to save Greece, the gods or the world.
We're trying to redeem Iolaus.
I walked into this empty church, I had no place else to go
When the sweetest voice I ever heard, whispered to my soul
I don't need to be forgiven, for loving you so much
It's written in the scriptures, it's written there in blood
I even heard the angels, declare it from above
There ain't no cure for love
Leonard Cohen, Ain't No Cure For Love.
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