“So it’s summer, so it’s suicide.” Perhaps that line still holds true. How often do we juxtapose love with death? Collocate them? It’s in all the best tragedies. Romeo and Juliet, Orpheus and Euridice, Tristan and Iseult; each died for their love. Oscar Wilde, imprisoned for an uncensored bleeding heart, said, “There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.” But what do we want? Acceptance? Immortality? Joy? Love? Well, isn’t it always love? Love from our parents, who are distant as stars, though it is human nature to pray to them even as they blink on in indifference. There is romantic love, too, where we crave someone who will dress our bodies in the perfume of sweat, someone who will not only tighten their hold on us when the world fades to black, but who will commit to the much more difficult work of saying, Good morning, and How was your day? and I love you, I love you, I love you , even when all you do is pick out their favourite green apples at the market. “So it’s summer, so it’s suicide.” But does it have to be? Is the bashing of fists the same as the crashing of lips? Does the blood on one’s wrist come from the vena amoris ? Perhaps it is suicide. Perhaps it is folly. Jealousy, Ennui, and Heartbreak – some of the earliest monsters – snake their way already through Eden, waiting for the first blunder to be made. Why worship such a mercurial god, when It might revoke Its favour at a moment’s notice and leave us more impoverished than we had thought possible? Perhaps Man and his disgustingly desperate need for Love – something akin to l’appel du vide – is the stupidest creature invented yet by God. But just like we cannot resist God’s call, whether it be in a temple or a kitchen, one must agree that we cannot resist Love. And so, as certain as the crickets recite their hymns, we must imagine a picture of a boy composing foolish poetry in the shade of a great tree, while illuminated in a window, one woman hums to another. It is ten o’clock at night, and the Sun has not yet set, so hopeful is She for the young and old alike, who believe they are immortal simply because they are loved. It is summer, but it is not Sin. How can it be, when – amidst the fireflies, the gently lifting curtains, the tender moans – there is no Hell, and certainly no Heaven. There is no suicide for those who can live in tandem forever, breathing endlessly into one another.
PART TWO: Prologue. From Heart-Shaped Bruises
My Gilmore Girls fic has just been updated, but if you're new and interested, here is the summary for Part One (please note tags will need modification):
"So it's summer, so it's suicide." At least, that's what Casper Rains thinks when beautiful trouble-maker Jess Mariano first strolls into the Stars Hollow library. Casper's not an idiot; he knows exactly how this crush is going to end, but he can't help himself as he sinks deeper and deeper in love. But when Jess slowly starts to befriend Casper, could it mean that he too is secretly harbouring feelings?
At the risk of spoilers, Part Two begins two months into the relationship. All seems to be going well, until their final year of school begins and there are colleges to think about... not to mention parents and ex-boyfriends. Will Jess and Casper be able to navigate the troubled waters of being 17 – hopefully without losing sight of one another?