Work Text:
The world stirs awake as my rays enter their cold households.
I watch as they soak up the light, as if my light nourishes them. I watch and watch, until they go back to their tiny cells.
I am warm.
But I’m still empty inside.
I have been since that day. To be honest, I think my light tarnishes a little everyday. And it has been tarnishing ever since.
It's not easy, you know. Every time I see those purple fields from the sky. Those lush flowers torment me as if what happened years ago did not happen years ago but just yesterday.
Everyday, I see those flowers: some blooming, some wilting. But soon have I realised I do not know what do I want from the fields.
After all, what can the fields give me? They can't bring my purple flower back. They won't be able to.
But sometimes, I think that plants might have their own gods, their own underworld where they go to when they wilt. There their Lord of Dead tells them to go to heaven or hell. Petals which go to heaven, exclude a fragrant smell wherever they go and must be reborn on fertile ground. Petals which go to hell will always reborn be on barren grounds.
Often days, I pray that some petals which go to hell and some which go to heaven, go to the human underworld and gift my beloved a bouquet of hyacinths.
See what I have been thinking about these days?
People will call me a mad man if they get to know about my thoughts.
But somedays, I often find myself thinking: Have I, infact, gone mad?
My heart aches with my everyday grief. My heart feels envy to look at those young couples get a ending I could never had.
Never-ever.
My life is a tragedy. My heart is full of envy and greed.
Greedy for my flower, my younger lover.
My Hyacinth. My dear prince.
I often think, what if I had not thrown the discus?
My heart regrets it. It rips apart and apart, again and again, everytime I remember the memory.
Somedays, I feel like dying.
Actually not.
Almost everyday, I feel like dying.
My warmth feels empty since I do not have him beside me.
Had he been with me, I would have felt his love.
Had he been with me, I would have felt alive. I would have the will to live.
We could have been so good together.
In this modern world, we would have dressed up for each other, gone out together and loved our lives.
But that can't be possible.