text: The Boy sat on the hill. It was a gorgeous sight. Like something you might find in a Walter Scott novel if he actually cared. It had grass and lots of it. A few stones and even rummaging sheep. A snapshot - a *great* snapshot - of a world in harmony. But not to the Boy. To the Boy, the hill was wrong. *For* the Boy, the hill was wrong. A real, three dimensional reminder of how shitty he truly felt. The pain still raw - still *red* - from his unfortunate dance with Love. Why care, why bother. He gripped a Stone. Its rough surface felt cold and unkind. A reminder - no, a *contrast* - to the skin of his beloved. Soft, gentle, warm. Often lost himself with her, in *her*. The memory a furious spear, the Boy fighting off the tears. “Do you know Love?” - he asked the rock. “Is Love worth it?” To his surprise. To his *astonishment*, the stone replied: “I do not know Love. I cannot Love but wish I could. I’ve been in this place for what seems - and maybe is - an eternity. I’ve never felt warm eyes, soft hands. I was never desired and could not even tell you what that means. I’ve seen people, I’ve heard them talk but I cannot love as they do. But I wish I could” “Well, you’re better off for not knowing. I wish I had never felt it. I truly wish I had never loved. And probably never will. You’re better off being a rock but you cannot help me.” The Stone fell silent. Surprised yet again but aren’t stones *quiet*? After what seemed like an eternity - and maybe was - the Stone replied: “You should ask the Wind. He has gone far and wide and has seen more than you ever could. He knows Love, I am sure of it”. The Boy dropped the Stone, the floor shuddering with the impact. The Stone - all Stones - now black as coal. “Do you know Love?” - he asked the Wind. “Is Love worth it?” A gentle breeze made itself known. A Stone that speaks so why not a Wind that blows? “I’ve crossed this world more times than all the beats of every heart of every Boy. I know Love. In countless Boys, I’ve seen this pain. It grips them, they suffer, they move on. So shall you” The Boy’s eyes widened with surprise “But I do not wish to move on. How do I stop it?” The Wind replied: “You do not. You suffer. You move on and then you Love again” “I do not wish to Love again, I wish to kill it. I ask you again. Do you know Love?” The breeze grew stronger, now a storm in the horizon. After what seemed like an eternity - and maybe was - the Wind replied: “You should ask the Sun. He has shone upon this world before there was even a world to shine upon. He has seen all matters of life. He *tends* to life. He knows Love, I am sure of it” The Boy looked upwards, the Sun bright with radiant fire. But it didn’t bother the Boy, not this time. “Do you know Love?” - he asked the Sun. “Is Love worth it?” A bright yellow turned into soft orange. The sheep scared with the sudden change. “Love. I’ve seen many Boys writing, singing, talking, thinking about Love. It grips them, they suffer, they move on. So shall you.” The Boy frowned. A *frown*. At the *Sun*. From a Boy. To an entity worshiped by billions over history. Such are the actions of a broken Boy “But how do I kill it? How do I stop it?” “You cannot. You cannot stop Love the same way I cannot stop shining. It consumes you but it is You. In a hundred million of your lifetimes I will burn out. I will die because I shine. Because that is who I am. Do you ask the Ice not to melt? If you do and it doesn’t, is it still Ice? Is it still Water?” The Boy replied: “I do not care for Ice or for Water. I wish to rid myself of Love. If you do not know how, then you cannot help me”. A soft orange morphed into a raging red. After what seemed like an eternity - and maybe was - the Sun retorted: “You should ask your Heart. He has been with you since you were born and he knows you better than anyone or anything that ever was. He does not know Love, but he knows *your* Love.” The landscape now belonged to a science fiction novel. The Stones black, a furious storm and an horizon filled with a hellish red. The end of times. In this place, in this *time* the Boy asked his Heart: “Why do you Love? Is Love worth it?” The Heart replied: “Do I ask you why you breath? Love is my nourishment. I do not beat so you can Love. *You Love so I can beat*. Without it I am not a Heart, I am not alive. What other reason to beat? What other reason to continue this tormented life if not for the time, for the *instant* in which you (we) truly Love? I am a Heart and I am lonely. I need another Heart to beat with me - maybe even at a different pace - with intent and with purpose. To relinquish that need is to die, to stop. You ask me if Love is worth it. No, it is not worth it. To me, *Love is It*.” The Boy now angry: “I do not care if you need it. I don’t need it. I know its tentacles and I wish it to die”. After what seemed like an eternity - and maybe was - the Heart replied: “You should ask God. He created all life and everything that ever was. I can take you to Him” “You can? How” “For those who listen, all Hearts show the way to God. But to see Him you (we) must die” The Boy replied: “Death is preferable to this. I wish to see God” And in that second the incessant beat of a broken Heart - of a *broken Boy* - was no more. A thump to the ground. A body now lifeless. A tunnel of white light and in an instant the Boy found himself (itself?) in an endless field of White. An enormous but silent voice inquired: “WHY?” The Boy - the *Nothing* - replied: “I did not wish to Love, I wished to kill it and I have. It is better this way.” The White responded: “Love is Life. You cannot live if you do not Love. You sought Love from others because you had your own Love to give. Loving is being alive, the culmination of a Universe created to Love itself. You were my ultimate expression. In the moment you Love, you are doing what you are supposed to do. It is the only time the Universe is at peace, in those moments of Love, in those frail times of true happiness. I have toiled for endless eternities to create such a Universe, one that could eventually Love itself, if even for just an instant. If you do not Love then you do not Live.” The Boy would look down if he could. But he couldn’t and he didn’t. The darkness came anyway. No more White. No more Heart. No more anything.