summary: in which Ymir does not believe.
I do not believe in love.
It is nothing more than a lie, a concoction thought up by the rejected and downcast, those who are desperate for any claim to happiness. If they can give this assertion a name, give this piece of make-believe shape and substance, then maybe, just maybe it can save them from the woes of their waking lives.
Yeah, right.
What a load of nonsense. In this cruel, hopeless, world, they will conjecture all sorts of imbecilic ideas to make this life bearable. They are not willing to tough it out, to face the hard facts and accept this fleeting existence for what it is. Instead, they search for a means to escape truth, seeking refuge at the bottom of liquor bottles and within the needled points of syringes; in the thrill of combat with an invulnerable enemy; in between the lips of a mistress whose name they can no longer recall.
Love is nothing but a myth, a fairy tale, the sand in the eyes of sleeping children, whisking them away to honeyed dreams of a merry tomorrow.
And yet, when she cradles me in her arms and I breathe in the faint scent of perfumed locks of hair, radiant and gold in the shadows of our room, something within my heart stirs. I could not be taken in by a fairy tale, but her sweet whispers are raptures running down my spine, and almost forcibly they spirit me away to a place which has no right to exist. Her kiss is poison - every time her lips meet mine, I am corrupted by sensations that are not real; an awareness which hammers away at my chest like a tireless blacksmith perfecting his latest work of art. Upon her tongue is the bitter flavour of deception, the tang of a dishonest life, but the moment it meets my own there is no taste more divine. I can only speak to her in fallacies, for the truth has no place in her presence.
I do not believe in love, but dear god, if I did, it would have her face, and her hands, and her blue, blue eyes, and it would smile at me as she does in the dead of night, when the only sounds are murmured words of reassurance that our survival is not a mistake in the design of the universe, that we were destined to endure this world together.
I do not believe in love, because I do not need it.
Not while I have her.