If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power

Love. It only reared its gut-wrenching, ugly head once in her life, but, damn, if it wasn’t once too many already. She never felt butterflies or some otherworldly sense of rightness; no, all she felt was pressure. Pressure to act, pressure to attract, pressure to conform. Like she strayed too close to a black hole and couldn’t escape its orbit, doomed to one day collide and become one. Her life was no longer hers. Now the barren outline lay ahead, just waiting for her to step into the role. 

And the worst part is that she could see it: The two of them living out a life that was carved out for them. Dating, marriage, kids, and then patiently waiting ‘til death do they part.

This must be what’s meant for me, she thought. I am a person to whom things happen. So, with a sour taste in her mouth, she patiently bided her time, waited to act, attract, and conform. 

She waited and waited, growing bored every day that nothing happened to her as it usually did. Waiting for the inevitable was no more stressful than waiting for the unknown. Years passed and her patience wore thin, and she became so bored that she decided to make things happen herself. 

She swam with the devil, bathed in honey, and started asking for forgiveness, not permission.

She raced through the universe of her own making, leaving a trail of stars and supernovas in their wake. Sh- no, they became something… more. They were no measly black hole, but the fabric of space-time itself. Influence, wealth, status, worldly words like these could not describe their reach. Pure unadulterated power flowed in their veins. 

The bleak life that had once been thrust upon them was now several light-years behind them. They realized that “love” had never been enough, so happily they gave it up. 

Power was far sweeter. 

Finally, they felt butterflies and that cosmic sense of rightness. They were not dragged into orbit; they crafted their own galaxy, putting themself in the center. Heavenly bodies and people alike were caught in their greatness. Happiness, rage, passion, sadness, they all circled simultaneously.  

Love may not have been enough, but it, too, orbited like a comet, only making contact once every century or so. But it no longer “happened” to them. Love came when it was created and sustained, no longer taking as it pleased. 

I create what is meant for me, they thought. I am a person who carves their own path.