Defining Passion
Lost love and a drive for more
Hey! An initial spark or first sight, where does it all begin?
Whether a thorn and its rose or a lasso around the moon, the price paid for love is well written in the stars between our stories.
An intense emotion that has sculpted new words and started old wars. More than the heat of the moment, a passionate fire consuming all reason and desire.
The ultimate expression of mankind’s most enigmatic feeling. The biggest bet at the table and an invitation to play with folly.
All in on a pair of twos just to look good to the eyes across the table.
And with that comes regret in equal measure: unrequited.
unrequited: not reciprocated or returned in kind
With a new idea brewing in my mind, I’ve been mulling over these lovesick concepts. A tragedy of unimaginable impact and how it ties into a grander narrative.
Blurred, vague details for the moment, but everything looks like it will come together for an epic tale on the old continent.
Rather than spoil a story that has yet to be written, I wanted to focus on the many reflections that come with the uneven aspect of love and relationships across the board.
Indeed, we mere mortals struggle to agree on a single definition for such poetic themes found around the bonds that tie us the closest together.
More half-remembered dream than proper wedding vow.
A covenant in a prayer or an accident of birth.
The circumstances around our emotions all too often fall under the pretext of happenstance.
Dictionary Game
“An… Ante… Antediluvian!”
Four siblings sat in a loose circle on the living room floor. A modest home that barely fit them all, but that never stopped the game.
The rules were simple. They each took a turn flipping through the old Webster’s dictionary and picked out a word. That person would then read it aloud and the others needed to define it.
“Is that even a real word?” The youngest squeaked and threw up her arms. The odds were stacked against her favor. The way the four of them sat in order from oldest to youngest always placed her next to her biggest brother.
“Of course it is!” And it was that biggest brother, the eldest son, whose turn it was and who had read out such an obscure word. “Antediv…. Antedil-uv-i-an… Antediluvian!” He struggled to pronounce the letters. He was pretending he knew what the definition was, but that was nothing but a brave face.
If he had ever seen the term before, it was in one of those Sunday school sessions. The same ones he would sooner have wanted to escape.
“Who is like God?”
A flash of a painful memory. Praises to save souls with no heart in the alleged obligation. Nothing but fragments of beliefs left behind in sinful pews.
But after a momentary sense of regret, his eyes focused on his little sister and he smiled. They were happy playing together even if he made the game a little unfair.
“You can’t even say it right!” She squeaked again and tried to sneak a peek at the page.
“Hey!” The younger brother shot out his hand in protest. “Don’t cheat!”
“I’m not looking!” The three older siblings shared a laugh as the youngest puffed out her cheeks in a pout. “I’m not!”
“Well…” The older sister scratched the back of her head and thought about the long word. “You can tell a bit about what it means, right? The ‘ante’ part is obvious.”
“Oh really?” The youngest stared daggers at the group. “If you’re so smart, then tell us what it means!”
Silence betrays such confidence. The challenge of answering correctly is always much harder than finding the right question to ask.
“You’re right! I don’t even know what it means!” The older sister smiled at her younger sibling in an attempt at a truce.
They all then looked at their oldest brother and accepted defeat. That was his invitation to win the round and read the definition out loud.
antediluvian: of or relating to the period before the flood described in the Bible
Critiques and complaints instantly erupted, cries of how unfair such an obscure word was to the spirit of the game. But the echoes of those memories were soon drowned out by the passage of time. The four siblings drifted farther and farther apart.
The years dripped and dripped and dripped on by.
Before long, the oldest brother, the eldest son, had gone and left again.
A soft song of hidden happiness beneath dancing feet. He failed to live up to his own expectations. As it turned out, there were even more convoluted rules once he stepped out of his home. Those games beyond the dictionary were impossible to follow.
“I am your superior officer!”
Another nightmare waking in the dead of night. That was the best outcome. Although it would chase him into the days of menial tasks where his will to live was drained. Endless doubt seeping into a dream he knew was never his own.
When those dark clouds cast shadows across the stars, he tried to find comfort in the task at hand. Another attempt to find his own path. A simple job suited to his fleeting youth.
Restocking shelves over and over and over and over again.
Any passion he felt slipped through the empty space between his fingers.
“I’m a loser…” When the weight became too much, he’d need to hold back tears, whispering to himself as he thought about what could have been. The years where he thought an answer was waiting in some form of destiny. Now, here he was. Back home and he didn’t know what to do next.
So worried about what he had already done.
What had been given up.
The fear of a lost past consumed his soul and left a dark stain on his heart. That blackness threatened to bleed through his veins until all his organs were drained of desire. A husk of a man at his limits, balancing on the razor’s edge.
“Excuse me?”
The soft voice next to him was so kind he didn’t think it was meant for him at first. He had grown into the habit of always assuming guilt. Another notch on that ever widening belt.
A careful descent back into the day and he found himself only slowly turning to see who was speaking to him.
“Excuse me?”
She repeated her request with a soft smile. She was beautiful. More beautiful than anyone he deserved.
“I was just looking for something.”
She smiled again and as she spoke, the spell was cast.
His mind was focused for the first time since he abandoned that forsaken destiny. Heart beating faster and faster, all of the regret and confusion was left in a harrowing past.
The oldest brother, the eldest son. He smiled awkwardly, like he had forgotten how. He grabbed his arm in an attempt to hide his trembling hand.
He was struck by her kindness and beauty, but he was reluctant to call it love just at that first sight.
“S-sorry. It’s been a busy shift.” He shook his head and lied. The boredom in his eyes shifting into softer colors filled with hope. “What’re you looking for?”
“Oh!” She couldn’t hide her own unmasked desires. They were a young couple in the making. Two souls finding a way to balance that uneven equation. “I was just getting a few things… I don’t recognize you though. You’re not from here? Originally, I mean?”
“No, I guess I’m not.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I’ve lived all over the place.” He relaxed and saw where her eyes were looking. “Do you like pineapples?”
And thus was it decided.
A long conversation shifting into a passionate exchange over minutes into hours into weeks into months and more. They found new ways to hear that special music, dancing together across every line on the map.
Lifetimes lived and his sullen feet found a happier pace. Even the sloppiest of steps made clean impressions. Footprints in the sands of time of the two of them moving forward together.
Terpsichorean lovers living their life as intended. That divine muse guiding every movement and lighting up the stage specially set for every moment.
terpsichorean: of or relating to dancing
New life born from infinite possibilities and honest desires.
Making it all the worse when the flood finally came.
“What do you mean?” The passionate flame they carried together burned to the end of its wick. “Who uses words like that?”
“Everyone knows what it means!” He was shouting in anger. A rhetorical tactic to win the game even if he lost his love.
“You’re always like this!”
And so it started to rain and never stopped for forty days and forty nights.
Tragic Ends
Exploring the theme of lost love as a general idea means digging into more than just raw romance. In fact, I believe it’s important to highlight how broad the emotion’s spectrum truly is. From friendships to familial connections, I wanted to share a scene that touches on a few of those tints and hues.
In my opinion, that’s a more accurate and more intense reflection of the reality we are fated to experience as we march through time. A song to share with the chorus if only as threnody.
threnody: a song of lamentation for the dead
Although today’s flash fiction may end in tragedy, that’s only because I chose to make it so. Often the point where we put the last word defines that final feeling.
The truth, however, easily continues toward new life and new love. Whether it’s walking off an ark or finding hope in a fresh face.
In any case, I hope you enjoyed what I wrote.
Until next time,
—JMB
This is amazing! I was kinda hoping it would continue on for longer haha 😊