The love of Death

Every gift she transmitted I gladly accepted.

I was always overjoyed to collect what was passed on to me. Of course, I wasn't confident she knew of my existence, but I perpetually strived to prove my love for her.

Being there for the ones she had to leave. Catching the ones who were forcibly taken from her. Comforting those who decided to depart from her.

This . . . this was my gift to her.

Of all the beings in the universe, she was the most fragile. The most delicate. The most beautiful.

And the ones who spent the most time with her regarded her as such.

And she, herself, let others dictate how they chose to interact with her.

So I watched from orbit the inherent chance of those who encounter her.

Those who embrace her, those who never quite acknowledged her, and those who never want to let her go.

Those searching for her at the corner of the galaxies, the earth's curves, and the bottom of the waters when she's right there with them in their journey. They may not notice her with them, but I do.

I know why they're looking for her. They want to understand others' adventures with her. What discoveries has she brought them? What knowledge has she given them? What has she taught them?

She's always giving them a lesson in the moment. Of course, some won't understand immediately, but eventually, they will.

She gives the best lessons I desire to take part in;

Her enticing beauty I wish I could observe closely. Her interactions unique to each individual.

Some of the beings with her question her existence.

Why? How? For what reason?

If I were next to her, if I were with her, I'd never question her. On the contrary, I'd admire everything she has to offer. Take in all she has to offer. I'd spend all my time giving her the best experience I could and taking what she'd give me.

And Although I know there would come a time we'd have to part, I'd have no regrets. Instead, I'd embrace her one last time. Replaying every memory we had together.

No Regrets.

Most of those she leaves have regrets. For example, they regret not having enough time with her. Or not acknowledging her. Or simply just not being there with her when it was most important.

She never gets to see the remorses. I carry those.

I hold on to those regrets knowing they'll never be fulfilled. Because once I meet those beings, it's time for the next adventure. And when they come to me, it's too late. The time, the eternity they spend with me.

I only wish they knew how precious she is.

I know.

I try hard to get close to her, but our worlds are vastly different. She can't function in my realm, and nor I in hers.

So I watch from a distance the love of my existence. The love I could never touch. The love I could never kiss. The love I could never share with. The love I could never . . .

Many beings I watch for her wonder why I'm here. Why I do this task, of caring for those she leaves?

Because every time a being passes to me, I get a glimpse of her.

I see her a bit more than before.

A glance at her beauty.

A moment in her time.

I see her.

I exist for that moment.

If I could only tell her who I am. Let her know why I'm here.

I'd say, "Hello Life, my name is Death. And I love you."