Our Infinite Fates

by Laura Steven

“Like the sway of the sea and the tug of the tides, love is a moving, eternal thing. Let us not be afraid of the wax and the wane, the rise and the fall, the eternal undertow. Each time our souls meet, let us submerge our bodies in the bright blue cold, and let the waves make us anew.” A tear slid down the apple of her cheek. “I love you, and I have loved you, and I will love you.”

as I gazed upon the first bramble, I thought of how the world reinvents itself year after year, century after century, summer deepening always into autumn, winter brightening always into spring, growing new flowers from old roots, and I thought of how it feels to hold you, each season of you, our love blossoming afresh, year after year, century after century, new flowers from old roots, an eternal seed from which life will always bloom

Almost everyone I had ever loved was dead, and the hurt never went away; I just learned to exist alongside it. Yet, for better or worse, I always let myself love anyway.

“My love for you could fill an ocean, Evelyn.” There was an awful resignation to her tone. “But it can’t stop the tide of time.”

“The Evelyn I know … they love over and over and over again, even though it can only ever end in tragedy. Even though they’ve lost everyone they’ve ever loved, and they miss them in the next life, and the next, and the next. Never have they developed hard edges like I have. Never have they tried to protect themselves from that pain. They love softly, and fiercely, and openly, and it’s the bravest thing I know. The most human thing I know.”

“You have faith in all of humanity. You have faith in love. Please, have faith in me. I do this to protect you. Do you understand that? That I would lay my body over yours, war after war after war, life after life after life?”

“It’s impossible to have bravery without fear. Bravery is picking up the fear and carrying it alongside you, rather than allowing it to block the path.”

Even when our families grieved and moved on, even when our ancestors lay in the dirt, even when we slipped through the cracks of time like ghosts, there would always be us. No matter how twisted and broken, we were the one true constant, our love like a river wending its way through the earth year after year, century after century, growing deeper and wider with every twist and bend. A certain peace came with knowing the water would always flow a particular way.

To love was to live, and to live was to die.