I don’t know if anyone will ever read this. I don’t know if anyone who does will care.
Have you ever wondered why things become cliché? How something gets so over used to the point it annoys and angers people?
I used the hate the idea. Loathed the cliché in the books I found as I went through High School.
The cliché about the girl who met a boy and her entire life changed in that moment. The cliché would have it end up with them together, and the girl finding some meaning just in a simple life of family and home.
I found the idea horrific.
When a similar situation happened to me I understood. Things become cliché not because people can’t be original, or push a traditional idea. They become cliché because we crave them.
I wish that had been the case for me.
Like the cliché, my life changed the day I met Aldebaran. Unlike the cliché, it wasn’t because of the teenaged girls search for self and romance.
There was a twenty plus year age difference, and he pulled me out of a wrecked passenger transport out of Palas Pacifica. That had been the day everything changed, and not in a good way.
Since that day I’ve seen sorrow. I’ve seen the cathedrals of Vatacana leveled and the pyramids of Sahadra crumble. I’ve seen hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children crushed together trying to escape an invading horror.
I’ve seen the fall of Darkness, capital “D”, over my world.
I’ve seen the only hope for our future, if we have one, in the remaining forces of my people, and the remnants of a long dead civilization.
My only constant companion has been Aldebaran, and while our
relationship is not the romance of tawdry novels, it has been the only
thing that has kept me from falling into despair.
Cliché exists because at the end of the day, we all want it to be true.
I wish I had been so lucky.
This is my story. And if it falls into cliché and repetitive ideas, I can only assume it is some function of history repeating itself.
If you are reading this, then that means we won. It means there is a future for our world after this butchery.
And if no one reads this, it doesn’t matter anyways.