Femme Fatale
Why did she married me? You might think I'm the luckiest guy in this world, to marry the most beautiful goddess there is, but I'm not. Every night when I wake up to drink a glass of water, and I look to the other side of the bed, she's not there, she's never there, that side of the bed is always smooth and as fresh as the day before. She knows I know she sleeps with other men, but she doesn't cares, she's shallow, I know, and that's my wife, the wife who doesn't thinks about her husbands feelings... I feel betrayed, every day. I feel miserable, every hour. I feel useless, ever minute. Feels like I'm unwanted, and I am. I'm useless. Nowadays nobody needs a blacksmith.
There's never a time I don't want to end this all, but I can't, because I'm not mortal. How many times I asked my father, Zeus, to make me mortal? I can't remember, 'cause I think I ask him about every month.
Many other gods don't see me as their equal, they just seem to pity me, because Aphrodite cheats on me.
Artemis always says that it's going to be okay, but I'm not so sure about that. Maybe she's right, or maybe she isn't, I don't know, I'm not the god of prophecy, I'm just some ordinary, ugly blacksmith.
Every night I cry hot tears, tears that almost scorch my pillow. And while I'm weeping, I pray to awake from this nightmare, but then I realize: there's no one I can pray to. I'm a god, and gods don't pray. Artemis is the only one who I really trust. Every month, when it's Artemis' turn to rule over the moon, we're sitting by the shore from this beautiful lake, where little fire flies spread their light above us, and I can tell my story, and cry. And it feels good... Mortals always picture Artemis as a cold Amazon, but she's the most understanding person I've ever met. When we sit there, next to the cold water, which reflects the silver light of the moon, I always think: What if I was mortal? I could end this all and let the icy water enter my lungs. But I think, even if I was mortal, I wouldn't... I love Artemis too much to do something like that. She's the only reason I'm still here, the only light at the end of this endless tunnel.
It's just not right... The one who belongs to be this light, is Aphrodite. She belongs to be this enormous ball of millions of dancing fire flies, at the end of my tunnel. But she is not, because I'd bet if Aphrodite married one of her lovers, she might sleep with me. She's never satisfied, that's why the only term that's good enough to describe her is...
...a femme fatale