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By Patricia L. Givens
I had only ever seen the light.
I know that now.
I used to think she was perfect. Oh, I knew about her past, as much as she would allow, anyway. And still I thought her perfect.
How do I answer that? Even to myself? She told me once, that when you put someone up on a pedestal, they're bound to fall, and your opinions and beliefs fall with them.
I learned that with Meleager. Sure, he was innocent, but he hadn't known it at the time. In a lot of ways, that still made him guilty.
But her She was always different. The things she had done seemed so far away from us. The people she had hurt It had always been easier to think of the people we were helping. But that didn't make the pain she had caused any less. The good she was doing did not, and would not, bring back the people she had killed.
And still, to me, she was perfect.
Was that right? Was it fair? When I judged others by their deeds, did that make me a hypocrite?
I suppose it did. If I wanted to think about it.
But I don't. I mean, really, what would be the good in it? Torturing myself won't bring me any closer to an answer.
An answer . I wonder how many others have looked for answers about her. Why they trusted her, despite her reputation. Why they cheered her, when two years ago they cursed her name. Why they loved her
Why I love her.
Why was that so hard? Why did it feel so real? And why didn't it ever feel this way with Perdicus?
I guess I already know the answer to that one. I let myself get pulled into his needing me. I let myself enjoy being needed for a while. But did I ever really believe that I would stay with him?
No No, I didn't. And I have to accept that, if I want to understand the truth.
The truth is, I want to be with her. The truth is, I need to be with her.
By the Gods! Does this ever get any easier? Is there ever a revelation? A comprehension? Or are there just these unending questions over, and over
Maybe it would be better to ask why she isn't perfect.
But how do I answer that?
To me, she has no imperfections. To me, she is the sun and the moon, the wind and the stars. She is the winter's first snowfall, and the springs first thaw. She is a warm fire on a cold night and a cool breeze on a hot day. She is my laughter, my tears, my voice and my thoughts.
She is my heart.
How do I find imperfection in that?
So here I am again, in the same place as before. The same questions and the same lack of answers. And all I know, is that with her is like home and without her is like Tartarus. So maybe the answer is as simple as that. Maybe the light is all in our hearts and minds. Maybe what you perceive is the only truth you need.
Maybe a person is only as good as they are believed to be and only as strong as the love they are given.
If that's true, then she really is a Goddess.
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