Today, I said goodbye to my conflicted goddess.

Another human, another ordinary, run-of-the-mill human would not have been able to see her turmoil. Suspended in the air like magic, the ethereal being turned her head to the side. A smile was plastered on her face; but then again, she was always smiling, regardless of circumstance. Her small hands, the only thing small about her, were clenching at her side. It was subtle, the physicality of her discomfort, but I knew it.

I knew more about her than she'd ever care to admit.

The past five years of my life had been dedicated solely to winning her heart. Mineral Town was home to beautiful girls, mortals, like me, but not a one of them captured my interest. They were normal. Entirely too much so, in fact. They were bland, and I wanted more than that. I wanted forever. In a superstitious place like Mineral Town, rumors of the Goddess were the pollution, the equivalent of smog in the city. While some were die-hard believers in their creator, others scoffed, weaving webs of lies about destruction and chaos that she created among mortals for her entertainment. "We're her pawns," the brutish men at the bar would exclaim after taking a sip too many of their cheap alcohol. "She does with us as she pleases, no matter how much we pray to her for help. Instead of help, we get destruction! Just last season, three hurricanes wiped out our entire livelihoods. Three!"

And even through all the slander, the Harvest Goddess smiled. While more and more people in the valley neglected her, shying away from the church, she never did the same to them. A few souls, the pure ones of children and true believers, they were her only advocates. But still she kept the town under her wing, protecting it to the best of her ability. Disasters happen; it's a part of life. But so is faith.

I had heard both sides of the story from villagers by the time I decided to pay a visit to the Goddess for myself. The children in the town, both abandoned by their parents and cared for by grandparents, whispered secrets to me of love they had found nowhere else. The priest gestured excitedly as he told story after story, each with a moral and a declaration of his undying faith in the goddess who had held him his entire life. On the other hand, I had also chatted with the nonbelievers, the ones who defiantly challenged their maker, or denied her existence entirely.

Spring was her favorite season, I gathered. She lived in a tiny pond, keeping watch over her charges from a closer distance than they thought. With strawberries in hand, I ventured out to her rumored home, arriving in almost no time. I have to admit, I doubted. I dubiously tossed a seedy fruit into the water, watching it sink, watching the water ripple around it. And then I sat down on the ground, and I waited. I waited for something, anything, to appear and erase my doubts.

It took longer than I expected. After several minutes of inactivity from beneath the surface, I began to give up. I stood up. And as soon as the soles of my feet touched the ground, a beam of light shot up from the stream. I watched, this time in awe, as the water parted easily and my eyes locked on the Harvest Goddess for the first time.

"Strawberries," she murmured, holding my gift in her hands. They were perfectly dry, and, in fact, so was she. For someone who lived underwater, she was remarkably not damp, as if by magic. She picked one of the fruits by the stem and popped it in her mouth, chewing slowly. "My favorite."

She didn't stay long; in fact, as soon as the strawberries were gone, so was she. But I was hooked.

I returned every single day after that. Each time, I arrived with gifts: strawberries, wildflowers, pineapples…almost anything I could get my hands on, I would bring to her and see if she approved of it. Most everything, she did, whether it was a turnip or potato from my field or an egg from my chicken.

Each time, I was received like a stranger. Spring slipped by, and I still got no more acknowledgement than an acceptance of my gift, whether or not it was positive. As summer rolled in, and beads of sweat rolled down my face as I made the journey to the pond, the Goddess would eye me, almost suspiciously. She was all-knowing; thus, shouldn't she know that my intentions were good? Nevertheless, she never told me to stay away, and so I kept coming.

My life, at that point, did not revolve around her. I maintained relationships, even friendships, with my neighbors. I attended festivals. I was slowly raking in a good amount of cash, and spending it on my farm, trying to be the best I could be. In fact, I was trying to be the best at nearly everything. If there were challenges to be had, I would attempt them, and a good amount of the time, I succeeded. My fishing, mining, socializing, and overall farming skills were being sharpened, and as I started to slip into a routine of achievement, my mind began to focus on attaining the unattainable.

It was almost masochistic, to fall in love with the Harvest Goddess. I was a mere human. She could crush me like a bug. I was a dime a dozen. But still, as I climbed into bed after meeting with the Goddess at the end of each day, all I could think about before slipping away to sleep was that perfect face, smiling as always.

She was perfect. Or so I thought.

Summer, too, soon ended, and as the leaves started to change, so did the Goddess. She would linger a while after accepting my offerings, and even went so far as to make small talk. More than once, she would ask subtle questions about girls in the valley. Did I have a girl for myself? Did I want family? With anyone else, these would be a little awkward to answer, but the Goddess was confident in herself and did not fumble with these. She asked them like a mortal would ask about the weather, and I answered as such. I told her that, while the girls in town were perfectly suitable as friends, I didn't feel deeply about any of them. And afterwards, she would smile secretively, always thinking that I never caught it. But I did.

With each major achievement I earned, whether it was catching every species of fish, reaching bottom levels of the mines, or shipping crops, she would appear before me and congratulate me, each time smiling in a way that suggested something more. The villagers must have noticed the difference in my step, the light in my eyes, the way I would trail off at the end of sentences. It must not have been hard to tell that I was in love. All the girls thought that, surely, my heart belonged to them, and all the girls were disappointed, one by one, when Winter and the romantic events like Valentine's Day and the Starry Night Festival arrived, and no one received an invitation. Instead, I chose to spend that time with the Goddess, trying to convince her that I was no ordinary human.

At some point, she caught onto the fact that this was not a puppy crush, and that I would not so much as look at another girl a second time. She began to pull away, gently suggesting that I stay where I belonged, with my kind. But I felt otherwise; I didn't belong with the villagers of Mineral Town. I belonged with her.

And soon, she began to feel the same way, too.

She sighed as I arrived to her pond each day without fail for the next year, which passed as quickly as my first in the town. But she would grin, much brighter than her customary, illuminated Supreme Being smile that she assumed when anyone else in town called upon her. With me, she was sincere.

Lovers are supposed to share secrets, hopes, and dreams. The Goddess had none of these to share; she had always had everything she could ever want or need. "Everything except someone to share it with," she confessed finally in my second Winter, letting her guard down enough for me to see that she was lonely.

Year three came and went, as well. Each year, I was resigned to the fact that, even as I got older, the Harvest Goddess never would. This was a point of concern for her; she would wish me a happy birthday every year on the day, but I would wave it off, trying to ignore the fact that, as a human, aging was a part of life. Other couples in the village were marrying off and having kids. My best friend, Kai, a free spirit who spent his days traveling from town to town, married Popuri, a loyal follower of the Goddess. They quickly had a child together, and every day, I saw a shining example of how your life is supposed to change when you meet the one that's right for you. Nature would tell us that, like Kai, even travelers have the innate instinct to eventually settle down. The Harvest Goddess received prayers from Popuri, once as childish as an infant, for wisdom and accuracy in raising her children.

The Goddess did not think she could have children. She confessed this to me after an annual festival in the town, which Kai's family had attended and she had overseen. She must've saw the way I was eying them, must've felt the jealousy that I did. I wanted a family. "You should find someone who can give it to you, Jack," she whispered, closing her eyes. Her ever-present smile was more of a grimace at that point.

"I don't want anyone else."

No matter how many times she tried insincerely to push me away, I kept coming to visit her every day. I stopped bringing gifts and instead tried to please her with my presence alone. I wanted to show her that I could make her happy by simply being myself. Years slipped away from me, but I was still hitting major landmarks in my career: I shipped everything that could be shipped. I caught every type of fish, twice. My house and farm structures had been upgraded as far as the local carpenter could improve them. And while I had all the material things that my heart could desire, I still did not have the one that my heart yearned for.

My fifth year in the village soon dawned.

Making my weekly confession to the Goddess in the chapel (unnecessary, for she knew everything about me, but it was a formality all the same), something inside of me turned.

"Carter," I said to the priest, breaking the usual vow of anonymity.

"Yes, my child."

"I…" I fumbled for the words.

"I cannot help you if you do not tell me what you need."

"I want to marry the Harvest Goddess."

Silence. My spirit sank. And then…

"My child, I cannot tell you what is right or wrong for you as an individual. I can see that you truly love the Goddess, in a way different from my own love for her. If you have truly decided that this is best, you may ask for her hand." I could sense trepidation in his voice, but he didn't warn me any further, and I was too overjoyed to press.

I went through all the motions of a man about to be married. I bought a double-sized bed. I prepared a kitchen, for when it was dinnertime and the two of us would sit together, talking as we did at the Goddess Spring, only now we would do it over a meal. I made a special trip to the market to buy a blue feather, the symbol of a long-lasting, prosperous marriage and an engagement tradition of the valley, instead of a ring.

Everything was planned out. With a quiver of nerves buzzing in my ribcage, I slid the blue feather into my back pocket and headed out to the spring.

She was waiting for me there, as she always was. "Hello," she said, smiling softly.

"I have an offering for you," I blurted out.

She raised a single eyebrow. "Jack, you stopped bringing me gifts two years ago."

The corner of my mouth lifted in a half-smile. "I know. But…" Here goes nothing. I reached into my pocket and yanked out the feather, centering it in my palm and handing it out to her. The sheer surprise on her face was, well, something of a surprise to me. Didn't she know everything? Didn't she know how much I loved her, and that I wanted to be with her for my forever?

"I love you," I started. "I have since the moment I met you. I know I'm simply human. But my love exceeds my status. Please," I said. I awkwardly sank down to one knee, as I thought was appropriate. "Would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Silence, as I have learned, is never a good thing. Silence leaves room for your heart to squeeze. Silence suffocates.

"Jack," she said, reaching a tiny hand out to brush the feather. I thought she was going to accept it, but the moment her fingers grazed the plume, she yanked her hand back to her side. "I love you, too," she said, ducking her head. I waited, and eventually, she looked back up at me. "There is nothing I would rather do than say yes."

"But?"

"But…" she sighed. She titled her head and looked around at the pond, and then towards the valley. "I'm not good for you, Jack. I can't give you what you need. I can't give you what you deserve. We're different, Jack. Irrevocably. And gods aren't supposed to marry mortals." She turned away, facing the waterfall that bordered the pond so she wouldn't have to see my heart shatter. "I can't accept. I'm sorry."

And even though my throat was closing, my head was pounding, and my heart was breaking, I did my best to regain my composure. "Okay," I said simply, getting to my feet. I tried to think of something to say, but my words failed me.

"Jack?"

I could do no more than nod.

"I think it's best if you don't come back here again."

And so, I said goodbye to my conflicted Goddess, knowing that, in her heart of hearts, she wanted to say yes. I could see it in her eyes. But it was not her place to be with me. She had a job to do, and she could not share her life with me. And as I crawled into bed, my thoughts of her started to die, and without her to soothe my dreams, I slept restlessly.

I knew more about her than she'd ever care to admit.
I knew her heart would always be mine.
I knew, deep down, that we were not meant to be.