Connected
by Zerjemae C. Zaragoza There is an intangible, and often perplexing concept that pulls us along. Human as we are, we doubt and we question, from the smallest ripples in the water to the crashing waves—we ask. What is meant to be and who decides what isn’t? We tell ourselves that fate is but a fool’s god, that our destinies are ours to twist and unravel as we see fit.
And yet—when something tugs at the strings of our heart—we comply.
For so long I have thought that my fate was this. To be tied down to this city—as its god, its beacon and its guidance. And for so long, I have believed this. I have made a rock out of myself, rooted myself in this mountain, forever staring at the shine of the horizon. The thrill of adventure is but a passing heartbeat, gone in a flash, buried under the crushing intensity of that which we call fate. I have thought that my red string was the banner hanging high above the welcoming arch, that it was the cry of a newborn and a mother’s gratitude—that it was my name spoken from reverent tongues. But you passed by me, in colors of gray and gloom, a stark contrast to the blazing reds of my domain. And as fate would have it, my heart skipped a beat. I knew in an instant, that you were the adventure I had been seeking—and yet the same danger I had been pushing away. My nightmare wrapped in pretty lies. And I recalled a phrase I had heard once from a storyteller, destiny would make even enemies meet. Fate had always taken delight in the misfortunes of its people. So much so that even I—a god—am left unable to escape. But as fate would have it, I have been long tired of running. So I will stand, rock-solid and firm. I will brave this storm that you have caused. Your sins, your transgressions, and your regrets, I have heard them all. And I will forgive, simply because it is you.
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