Mei Lux,
I find the fact that I'm writing this letter incredibly amusing. Because it's a love letter. Not very much like me, is it? I know it is unlikely that I will ever give this to you, and that's what gives me the ability, and yes the courage something I never thought I'd lack, to humble myself thus. I don't know exactly where to start, so I'm compelled to just write, and not plan. I want you to understand how I feel when I'm with you. With you I can forget. Who I am and what I've done and that I'm still a dog dancing on the end of His leash. I never thought I'd need to forget, I fell for pride did I not? And I've always been strong. I never understood the attraction of Lethe. But when I'm with you I forget that we're enemies, and puppets played by the same hand. My Lethe, I've grown so addicted to you. You're amazing. I bet no one has ever told you that before. But you are. I know you like to say you're cynical, but you're not. You're so good and clean and pure, but not His pure, a kind that makes me sick, but your own perfection. I have told myself countless times that Purity is a longing he created in us to twist the inevitable knife of our suffering deeper, and that has always made the goodness of angels turn to bitter ash. Not yours. You are, perhaps, as cynical as something so good and clean can be. Lethe is the dirtiest holy river, after all, and it sees all man's most sickening sins. But it washes them away leaving them pure and new and good enough to enter heaven.
You are so beautiful. I used to have blond hair, like yours. Maybe a few shades warmer. It makes me laugh how all angels used to, in the beginning, have blond hair and blue eyes. It seems so predictable and dull after a while. There was a time after I fell that I hated blond hair and blue eyes so much that I killed any mortal I met who had those features. Something in their faces as they died made me for a moment believe I had killed an angel. And after a while that made me sick. I have brown or sometimes black hair now, as far from my original hair as it can be. You know, I never met an angel with black eyes before. They suit you. They make a lovely counterpoint to you hair. I woke, one morning in heaven and realized I didn't know what color my eyes were. I asked Azazel, and he looked surprised and said they were a crystal, shining blue. His eyes were red. He was an angel of vengeance then. I never asked him, or anyone, after I fell what color my eyes are. Are they brown with dirt? Or crimson with blood? Or are they still blue, Lethe? Are they colder now?
I used to know angels I was willing to deal with. They noticed some of heaven's sad hypocrisy and I always felt they danced on the brink of falling because they had trouble seeing the difference. I think they would have done well had they joined our mockery of a rebellion. But things are different now. I did say I tolerated them, not that I liked them. I don't want to deal with any angel but you. I don't want to talk to anyone else. I'm obsessing, I know. But this I must confess. I've fallen again, this time in love. And there has never been a more disastrous fall. Because it would be a sin for you to love me, and I could never let you fall.
Lucifer
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Mei Lux-My light Lethe-river of forgetfulness in Dante's purgatory Lucifer (as if you don't know)- Samael, The star of Morning, First among the fallen, etc.
I find the fact that I'm writing this letter incredibly amusing. Because it's a love letter. Not very much like me, is it? I know it is unlikely that I will ever give this to you, and that's what gives me the ability, and yes the courage something I never thought I'd lack, to humble myself thus. I don't know exactly where to start, so I'm compelled to just write, and not plan. I want you to understand how I feel when I'm with you. With you I can forget. Who I am and what I've done and that I'm still a dog dancing on the end of His leash. I never thought I'd need to forget, I fell for pride did I not? And I've always been strong. I never understood the attraction of Lethe. But when I'm with you I forget that we're enemies, and puppets played by the same hand. My Lethe, I've grown so addicted to you. You're amazing. I bet no one has ever told you that before. But you are. I know you like to say you're cynical, but you're not. You're so good and clean and pure, but not His pure, a kind that makes me sick, but your own perfection. I have told myself countless times that Purity is a longing he created in us to twist the inevitable knife of our suffering deeper, and that has always made the goodness of angels turn to bitter ash. Not yours. You are, perhaps, as cynical as something so good and clean can be. Lethe is the dirtiest holy river, after all, and it sees all man's most sickening sins. But it washes them away leaving them pure and new and good enough to enter heaven.
You are so beautiful. I used to have blond hair, like yours. Maybe a few shades warmer. It makes me laugh how all angels used to, in the beginning, have blond hair and blue eyes. It seems so predictable and dull after a while. There was a time after I fell that I hated blond hair and blue eyes so much that I killed any mortal I met who had those features. Something in their faces as they died made me for a moment believe I had killed an angel. And after a while that made me sick. I have brown or sometimes black hair now, as far from my original hair as it can be. You know, I never met an angel with black eyes before. They suit you. They make a lovely counterpoint to you hair. I woke, one morning in heaven and realized I didn't know what color my eyes were. I asked Azazel, and he looked surprised and said they were a crystal, shining blue. His eyes were red. He was an angel of vengeance then. I never asked him, or anyone, after I fell what color my eyes are. Are they brown with dirt? Or crimson with blood? Or are they still blue, Lethe? Are they colder now?
I used to know angels I was willing to deal with. They noticed some of heaven's sad hypocrisy and I always felt they danced on the brink of falling because they had trouble seeing the difference. I think they would have done well had they joined our mockery of a rebellion. But things are different now. I did say I tolerated them, not that I liked them. I don't want to deal with any angel but you. I don't want to talk to anyone else. I'm obsessing, I know. But this I must confess. I've fallen again, this time in love. And there has never been a more disastrous fall. Because it would be a sin for you to love me, and I could never let you fall.
Lucifer
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Mei Lux-My light Lethe-river of forgetfulness in Dante's purgatory Lucifer (as if you don't know)- Samael, The star of Morning, First among the fallen, etc.