Amazing Grace – Does Love Forgive?

This story was a bit of a scam.  It was supposed to be about love and then turned into one of my usual magic disasters.  Sorry about that.  It’s my life is the thing.

I could say that this is the way that it has to be.  That magic comes first.  That it’s my sacred duty as the most special, most talented, most interesting, and most extraordinary person in the universe to protect everyone from Harry Potter no-nose people.  I could say that. 

I could be a liar.

I don’t have to do this.  I could stop.  Just be a wrestler.  Have a boyfriend.  Order pizza.  Sit on the couch and make fun of celebrities.  Let someone else stop the crazy evil magic people.  Or maybe no one stops them.  Maybe they pull off their schemes and the world is a little worse.

I do this because I choose to do it.  I do it for me.  Because it’s what I want to do.  I want Royale and Obaluaiye and Mr. Petticord to be proud of me.  I want to help people.  I can take it.  You know what I mean?  I can handle it. 

I don’t think that obligates me, I don’t think it means I have to do this, I have the choice.

Those two black magic assholes who broke into Kim’s apartment to threaten recruit me made up a a story about how my shitty childhood was orchestrated by their evil masters from the shadows to make me strong so I could be their evil magic chosen one.

I shit on that notion.  That they puppeteered my life, but also the underlying idea.  You don’t have to live in the gutter to strong.

Buuuut it’s not total bullshit either. 

I don’t mind not owning a lot of stuff.  I don’t mind sleeping in my car.  I don’t mind hotel rooms that smell like moldy balls.  I don’t mind beds with all the hepatitis.  I don’t mind blood.  I don’t hate pain.  I’m okay being alone.  I don’t mind being sad.

There are people that would do this because they felt like they had to but they would hate it.  They would want a life, a family, a refrigerator with an icemaker and a hammock in the backyard and a kid that drives them crazy and a mildly boring routine sex life.

I’m fine with this life.  For now anyway.  I’ll take my turn in the shit.

I could have turned away.  Lots of people do.  You don’t have to believe.  They see magic, or monsters, or immortal soulless THINGS and they say “NOOP” and go back to their lives.  And it’s okay.  That doesn’t make them bad people. 

I could have turned away.  But I didn’t.  I jumped into a weird world full of a lot of bad shit.  My choice. 

As Ann Wilson would say “What about love?”  I started this story having been asked the question “Have you ever been in love?”

Was I in love with Addie?  No.  I don’t think so.  Could I have gotten there over time?  I think so.  Maybe.  I’m sure this is shocking to you but I have a lot of walls.  I could have made it though.  I could have fallen in love with Addie I think.

I chose to go the other way.  Maybe I’ll have another chance to be in love some day and maybe I won’t.  For now, for me, this is what I want.  What is that?  A ghost buster?  A demon hunter?  A slayer?  A paranormal investigator?  Harry Dresden with a sports bra?  Locasta the Good Witch of the Motor Lodge Hotel?  I don’t know but whatever it is I’m going to give it my best shot.

And let’s not forget about Royale and Bessie.  I don’t think that’s something that happens very often, maybe only just that once, but what a fucking aspiration.  To have the love of your life right there with you at your side, in the thick of it?  Banishing evil spirits and busting up serial killing blood mages? 

Hell yeah!

Doesn’t seem likely that I’ll meet a nice young magic fella out there fighting for truth, justice, pizza and cheap beer but there’s no reason not to hope right?

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