carving the cosmos

Ethos took a knife and sent it down the edge of the universe. He painstakingly worked on an edge just diagonal of it, and triumphantly held out the piece to Aphrodite. She smiled and embraced his hand into hers, her dainty fingers gently stroking his, in reassurance that the piece was indeed their own world, carved only for each other.

When Ethos first met her at a chance encounter, it wasn’t some love at first sight. He was already jaded by the societal expectations of a perfect match, a soulmate who would impart deus ex machina onto the lonely road that is the human journey. And she too, only glanced at him and nothing more. When their eyes locked, it was the most ephemeral moment, to be buried with other passing seconds towards an inevitable end.

But when he mustered the courage to ask her to a night, he had already gotten the knife ready. It was different this time; the transitory seconds amalgamated into hours where he couldn’t stop but smiling at her face. Aphrodite, with her short black hair and a pair of playful eyes, was irresistible in her imperfect beauty. But he loved imperfection, just as the edge of the cosmic carving was never perfectly straight. It didn’t matter. His flaws were hers, and hers were his, and together they would concoct an universe with only two portals: their souls.

Ethos wondered if and when the butterflies in the stomach would come. Alas, they never did. Nevertheless, he was happy. Butterflies were a child’s pastime, of unrealistic standards and love only imaginable in an unperturbed world. Within the chaos of randomness, deaths, births, every organism on the endless spectrum, butterflies were extinct. He instead imagined a warm cup of hot chocolate in his belly, its ember cascading throughout his body as he took her into his arms.

Years and eons will pass, and the carved spot on the universe will return to normalcy. Theirs will crumble, erode, disintegrate into nothing more than minute atoms. Yet, how could he ever forget the way Aphrodite gently placed her hand on his and guided him in carving their cosmos? You never forget your first love, after all.

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How come, 5 years later, I can still remember the moment where she ran into my arms and let herself fall into the depths of my chest. I’m sure she heard my heartbeats going through the roof, emanating warmth and love that were as genuine as they could be.

It has been five years and while remarkable experiences have been abound, I could never replicate that feeling anymore. The raw anticipation and thousands of “I miss you” notes stratified into those few seconds where we wouldn’t let each other go.

She betrayed what we had and at the time I resented her for that. But now, time has closed that wound and encourages me to remember the infinite spectrum of emotions she rendered unto me.

Today, I caught a glimpse of what I thought was her, and my heart jumped a few beats in excitement — perhaps there was a chance to relive that moment just once more. But alas, it was only a facsimile and nothing more. So I turned on a few tunes to soothe the momentary sorrows of my heart and reminisce the good times we shared.

Knowing that no moment is permanent, all a passing shard in the chandelier of human memory, makes ours all that more unforgettable.

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