I wrote this in about 45 minutes today. It's just a quick, short little story for one of my classes. We were told to rewrite one of Ovid's myths however we wanted, so I chose the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. Even if you've never read the myth itself, you will still understand this story. I named it something really cheesy, so I don't want to tell you the title. That was simply a working title anyway. I think my professor will probably like it though.
I’ve always been a writer. More particularly, I’ve always been a poet. Nothing really shows a persons soul quite like poetry. I mean, sure, other writers put their feelings and their views on the world into short stories or novels but they can never really ring true like a short, sweet little poem can. Perhaps that’s why I love poetry so much. Or perhaps it is the fact that you can use poetry in almost any situation. Feeling down? Make your feelings into poetry. Feeling intensely great? Make your feelings into poetry. Need to tell someone a deep, dark secret? Put it into poetry. It’s so versatile.
A few years ago, I met an amazing woman. Well, let me preface this a little bit. As a poet, I have been known to do a few poetry readings. Large audiences are always my goal, but on one particular night only a few people showed up to one of my favorite coffee houses in a neighboring city. I walked onto the stage that night a little upset with the fact that so few people had turned out to hear me speak the words placed so delicately on my heart. But when I looked up into the few people sitting in their chairs, I saw the reason I was on the stage that night. Her name was Eury.
I talked to her all night, we fell in love. She was the only thing I wrote about, the only muse I really ever had. The first word of every sentence was about Eury, the ending was only an ending if she was in it. I had known a time would come when I would yearn after someone like her, but I never knew it would encompass that much of my being. The way she laughed, the way she looked, it was all so beautiful. Loving her was the easiest thing I have ever done.
One night, Eury fell ill. I’ve never seen anyone fall ill quite like that. It was so sudden, so unexpected. As the night raged on into the next day, I saw her love of life completely fade. Even my poetry could not keep the reflective pools in her eyes that I had always known. They became hollow, meaningless pits of blank stares that I had never known. It was like she wanted to pass on into the underworld, leaving me completely alone and lost. She was everything my life had been leading to and now she just lost the will to keep being my everything.
She was taken down into hades the next evening.
I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle the empty place in the bed next to me, I couldn’t see past the stool without a body on it during breakfast. At dinner, I spent time staring at the wall, eating the cold cereal I had inhaled as a bachelor. I had to do something about it. I had to approach the underworld and take them on for all they were. I mean, love conquers all, right? At least that’s what Deep Purple told me.
I crossed the river only knowing two things: 1. I loved Eury. 2. I wouldn’t leave without her. I saw her, I saw the Fates, I knew what I had to do. Poetry poured from between my lips, perfectly encompassing everything that I felt and knew inside of me. If they didn’t let me take Eury back (my beautiful, perfect Eury), then I would die too and stay down there to be with her forever. As long as I was near her, nothing could be wrong, bad, or dark, even if I was in the underworld.
With permission from the gods, I was able to take my Eury home with me. The exquisite specimen that I had known could come back from the dead with me, her only true love. I was overwhelmed, happier than I could ever imagine. I was happier than the moment I met her, than the moment we were married. There was only one stipulation- I could not peer back to see her figure following me. I couldn’t peer into those pools of emotion known as her eyes. As we made the journey, I was forced to keep my head straight, like Lot and his family when they were leaving the burning cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. And like Lot’s wife, I was overcome with the temptation to peek back, just for a moment. The gods would not see my blatant disregard for what they told me to do, nor would they punish me for it. After all, love conquers all. I made them change their minds about having Eury once, I could do it again. My poetry could convince them one more time.
I turned around and saw her, full of beauty like the little porcelin doll my sister had when she was a young girl. I couldn’t look away, and the gods saw that. They took her away from me, a second death. No matter how much I pleaded with them, no matter how long I waited for them to change their minds again, the gods would not relent. I, being man, could not continue to live on the edge of the underworld, begging day after day and minute after minute for my love to be brought back to me.
Now I exist up here. I don’t live, I just exist. Even my poetry just exists, although it has found a new audience with thousands of young women who do nothing but throw themselves at me. But I could never look at another woman again, not after my Eury. If I had to live like this, the world would know it through my poetry and attempt to follow my lead with living a life woman-less.
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