The light and the dark

It's an age old tale; Death falls in love with a mortal. It is perhaps one of our oldest fantasies; one we can relate to... because we've had an eternal love affair with death. It terrifies us, compels us, entices and repels. Death is that most intimate and elusive lover that we dream of knowing as absolutely as we know our own desires. Tragically, the moment in which that dream is fulfilled is the last moment of our life.

And so we write stories in which Death is so enamored with a mortal that taking their life becomes a painful struggle. We want Death to mourn us, to regret, to fear and rage. To agonize over what it means to end a life. We want Death to suffer as we suffer. We want Death to be mortal.

Which is of course, futile. There truly is no life without death. They are the light and the dark become corporeal. The relationship between the two is an unending dance, balanced precariously at the edge conception, asking the question; Do I live or do I die?

I think that the story is really about us falling in love with our fragile lives, with our own mortality elucidated by our imminent demise.

How brightly we shine for such a brief moment of existence.