One memory
If you could only carry one memory with you into the afterlife, which would you choose?
There were lots of memories in Hell. Mainly about why I was there. All the things I'd done "wrong" all my life. All the people I'd hurt. Forcing me to live it over and over and over again when I couldn't see or touch or hear or smell or taste anything else. And you know what it taught me? That whoever makes those decisions is a self-righteous bastard. Because nothing I did inflicted that much torture on anyone. And I did a lot of good things, too.
So now I make the rules. I decide for me. No more Hell. No more heaven. Wherever Loki decides...whatever he asks...that's the choice I made. Because he believed in me and cared about me, if only because I amuse him. At least that's something.
So no more Hell. And maybe no more afterlife. And all those memories can just...burn there without me for all I care.
There's nothing. No memory so dear that I need it anymore. Nothing to cling to. I let it all burn in the fire of my sacrifice. No soft whispers in the night. No promises of love. No hopes for revival. No prayers to see him again.
It's gone. All of it. Memories of who and where and when and how and what it felt like when he touched me and when he said he loved me...
I don't carry them with me now and I won't take them with me to wherever I go from here.
He freed me from that.
And that freedom is what I'll remember.
There were lots of memories in Hell. Mainly about why I was there. All the things I'd done "wrong" all my life. All the people I'd hurt. Forcing me to live it over and over and over again when I couldn't see or touch or hear or smell or taste anything else. And you know what it taught me? That whoever makes those decisions is a self-righteous bastard. Because nothing I did inflicted that much torture on anyone. And I did a lot of good things, too.
So now I make the rules. I decide for me. No more Hell. No more heaven. Wherever Loki decides...whatever he asks...that's the choice I made. Because he believed in me and cared about me, if only because I amuse him. At least that's something.
So no more Hell. And maybe no more afterlife. And all those memories can just...burn there without me for all I care.
There's nothing. No memory so dear that I need it anymore. Nothing to cling to. I let it all burn in the fire of my sacrifice. No soft whispers in the night. No promises of love. No hopes for revival. No prayers to see him again.
It's gone. All of it. Memories of who and where and when and how and what it felt like when he touched me and when he said he loved me...
I don't carry them with me now and I won't take them with me to wherever I go from here.
He freed me from that.
And that freedom is what I'll remember.