text: \*\*\* Wars. Throughout the thousands of years I've lived, it's wars that seem to bind mankind through the ages. It's where I'd first met Marcellus, after our army won the battle against Carthage. It's how I'd fatefully meet him again 2,000 years into the future. But first, let's go back to the beginning. During this fateful day in 241 BC, one of my commanders presented me a young man with a noose around his neck. This was Marcellus, a ranking officer of the Carthaginian army. Seeing that the war was already won, I ordered the general to stop tugging on the rope, and to set this man free. There was no need for more prisoners. "Thank you, lord," Marcellus said, in our mother tongue of Latin. "Please allow me to repay you in kind." He stepped forward and grasped at the sharp edge of my commander's gladius. Blood trickled down his fingers in crimson rivulets. "This is a blessing reserved only for the purest of hearts--" Before Marcellus could finish his sentence, my general had tightened his grip on the rope and wailed on the man before sending him face first into the dirt. Weirdly enough, the man did not seem to mind at all. I waved for my officer to stand down. Marcellus stood back up and took my hand, unperturbed by the swords drawn and thrust at his neck. "I am Marcellus," he said, "and today, I trade you the best gift in the world in exchange for sparing me imprisonment." My chest hummed the moment he spoke those words. I had no way of expressing it at the time, but by today's standards, it'd be like standing in front of a subwoofer. He then walked away without looking back. *Looking back*, now that's a term for the ages. Every time I look back to this day, I wish I had not shaken his hand. In fact, I wish I had locked him up and left him to rot. \*\*\* Maybe I should fast-forward a little, forgive my play on words. This is America, and it's the year 2020. I wasn't always a citizen of this country, as much as my name wasn't Eric until about 80 years ago. I was born Epictetus in 284 BC, a full 20 years before the Punic Wars. I know what you're thinking. *Is this guy for real?* And perhaps, after you're ready to humour me, you'd think, *I wonder what he thinks about modern plumbing or the iPhone.* Well, how do *you* feel about the iPhone? That's assuming you're old enough to have witnessed its before-and-after effects on mankind. Oh, don't get so uptight about my remark. Age is *very* relative when it comes to conversations with me. I'm guessing you've grown to take this piece of technology for granted. Well, so have I. Paper money, gunpowder, electricity--they've all came and went so slowly that they've lost their magic, even to someone like me. I'm just like you. Only I've lived longer. I came to America by chance, really. Once personal identification became a thing, it took considerably more effort to remain anonymous. I mean, it wasn't exactly the easiest thing to explain why my papers were always hundreds of years old. But I won't bore you with the details. I've stories that date back through the millennia, so pardon me if I occasionally digress. Now, where was I? Oh yes, America. \*\*\* Let's take one more step back to the 1940s. I had become a lone traveller by now, having known better than to make friends, with my condition and all. I'd loved and lost seven wives by then, all without children, due to my fear of passing down this disease. I was tempted to 'convert' my seventh wife, Lea, and I came clean to her on her deathbed. I'm immortal, I told her, and we could live together for as long as we can imagine. "Oh darling," Lea said, in German, "I have loved you my whole life, but give me eternity and I might well jump at your throat. Let me go. Let me remember you like this." I don't know if she had believed me, that she had really meant those words. But I knew I couldn't go through with it even if she wanted to. Everything changes when you have an eternity ahead of you--everything. Even the word 'meaning' becomes pointless after some time. I watched Lea die that night, and I vowed never to love anyone again.