*this story uses characters from the Sandman graphic novels by Neil Gaiman. if you haven’t read them i highly encourage you to do so right away. i also took inspiration from This Is How You Lose Her by Junot Diaz. he plays around with second person narrative in a way that i’ve never seen done so well. my story can be read as a meager tribute to both of them, if you’d like

Desire holds you in his hands. She plays with you, molds you, sets your life on fire. You are consumed, wholly and utterly. You are barely you anymore; such is the intoxicating effect of inhabiting Desire’s realm. This is not a place you chose to visit, rather a land where you must come. You are compelled. The power of Desire compels you. The power of Desire compels you. Act now. You must. Why? It does not matter, nothing matters, just do it now.

Desire can seem cruel and heartless at times but this is a misunderstanding of his essence, of her nature. She is himself, only and always. And so she does what he must. The poor creatures who fall within his gaze are altered and so often damaged. Such is her power.

But today you awake and look around and things are different. Under Desire’s guidance you acted and found her subject to be under his influence as well. And so you have moved into the realm of Delight. You and yours, they and theirs, together. Here you can seem happiness made manifest. As you look to your lover and your heart fills and pushes, trying to free itself, you feel something wriggling in your mouth. It is not unpleasant and as your jaws open a thousand, million tiny butterflies emerge. They are day-glo, iridescent, pastel, dark, light, deep, rich, beautiful. They are the butterflies called Joy. Here, when your lover laughs, perhaps from across the room, you smile and find yourself floating an inch off the ground. The two of you learn each other here, every inch, every centimeter, every god-damn-fucking-star-born-atom. Enough is not a concept which exists. It is only the two of you, and of course Delight herself, who blesses you both and sanctifies each moment. “Thank you,” you whisper each night before sleep takes you. “I didn’t know anything could be like this.”

Delight is young and she finds it difficult to keep her attention on any one thing. At first she wants to, feels an obligation, but Oh! did you see the way the froggies dance in the pond as the moon rises and the wolf sings to it and the stars smile back as the trees in the forest reach up breathing, Hallelujah and the mist envelops you and it tickles! and it is wonderful, it is right, it is so good to be alive and dance with the bees, to laugh with the sparrow to…

…and so Delight forgets about you. And you look around and find the land is grey and the sky is grey and food turns to ash in your mouth and your love, your life, your beautiful sweet someone is no longer walking with you. Desire has left their heart as Delight has left their mind. But Desire still walks with you, a cold and terrifying smile plastered across his sharp face. And beside her is his twin, the grotesque Despair. Rats crawl about her, blood and puss ooze from long opened sores on her face and naked body. She stands hand in hand with her twin sister-brother and they feast, together, lavishly, upon you. Their meal is one gluttons will sing about in stories long from now. Questions begin to come unbidden to your mind; dark questions with even darker answers. The answers have become harder to block out, a chorus rising around you, invisible but truly there. A steady drumbeat accompanies these voices, imprinting on your mind as you fall, exhausted to the only comfort you have; sleep. But lately even that has been robbed of you, both slowly and faster than you thought possible. Premonitions of who Delight will be come to you now in the forever moment between wakefulness and sleep. But Despair is not done with you.

You live with her for a long time. So long you don’t immediately realize that Desire has grown bored of you and moved on. She has left you to his sister. When you do understand, something begins to change. You start to wonder why you still walk with Despair. You begin to believe you can leave. And one day you ask and she hands you a key and shows you a door and it is so small and tight but you have not eaten for a long time. Of course, it being her door, it is uncomfortable and presses in on you as you squeeze through, but you do get through. As you take one look back you think you may be losing something, but oh doesn’t the sun feel wonderful out here, out of there? You take an unsteady step and then another and then you begin to run, hard and fast. And running is painful. Your lungs burn and feet protest and your joints, stiff from disuse, scream out. And you smile. And then you yell. For the first time in all of time you can feel something and even if it is pain that is still something. Physical pain is so different, you think. And at that you hear footsteps behind you. You look and it is Despair. She is not smiling but looks forlorn, melancholic. She approaches and grasps you by the collar, pulls your face down to hers and kisses you, deep and full and you taste ash and you feel a pain in what you call your heart and you look at her as she pushes you away and she says, “Now I will always be with you. You may think you have forgotten, but we walk together, always. In those moments when I seem furthest away, I am waiting, just around the corner to welcome you home. You are always welcome in my domain.” And she walks away, then turns, a tear falling and says, “Thank you for what you have given me,” and you are alone again.

Life goes on. At least that is how it feels now. Then it felt as if life restarted. Everything was new, your grey world replaced with color. Not technicolor, the day-glo butterflies called Joy do not visit, but you did see a monarch the other day. As it flitted about from flower to flower you marveled at the simple, delicate beauty before you and you remembered Despair’s words and you knew she was close, and that was ok, for now, because so was the orange and black monarch and the sun was shining and later you had tickets to see that band and your friends invited you and that felt good. And good is enough. Yes, good is enough.

Five years has passed since Desire set his gaze upon you. you haven’t felt her pull nor her sisters’, Delight and Despair. But their brother, Dream visits you often. Or rather, you visit him. And after five years often has become every three to four months. And at such a distance from his siblings you wonder if they could ever be as real as he. He shows you things which never occurred, events which did, and mixtures of the two so beautiful and terrible you cannot forget them upon waking. You sometimes think he may be the cruelest of the family for this, but no, he is only fulfilling his duties. Not that that is a comfort. Sometimes you want to stay with him, you wish he would actually show himself so you could ask, but he does not. And you remember Despair’s promise and Desire’s draw.

You visited Dream’s country again last night. It had been almost six months since he had invited you last. And his invitations are that only in name; you do not have a choice. When he bids, you go. He showed a world frozen in time, when you and your lover were still that. It was the moment you both stepped into the land of Delight, and you when you woke Despair sat in the corner, watching, panting, scraping a knife down her cheek.

You nod at her. She is impossible to ignore and it would be stupid to do so. And then you rise and put on your clothes and ride your bike to get coffee and you pull out your notebook and pen. As you trace the first letter you catch a glimpse of a man walking in a garden, reading from a book which is chained to his wrist and you lean in to peek over his shoulder and for the briefest moment you see written, “Desire holds you in his hands. She plays with you, molds you, sets your life on fire…”