Live, Die, Repeat

Chapter 18

I've repeatedly tried to learn from my past lives. Sometimes that is easy, I have learned to cook, to play instruments, and to operate most boats and planes because of what I've learned. I've also learned to kill my fellow humans, which is a skill I wish I hadn't had to learn, but I've become particularly good at it. I only use it when it's necessary, I'd much rather find solutions to help others that involve removing them from a situation or providing them the aid they need to get through a crisis.

But sometimes violence is the only way.

I've also used what I've learned to try to predict the future, which has turned out to be a waste of time. My fellow humans sometimes make baffling decisions that do nothing to help the rest of the world. The worst thing is, they know it, but they do it anyway to get a short-term win, or to spite someone else. That could go for businesses, relationships, communities, or most likely politics.

It is always a relief to find something healthy that can make people feel better. I've become so jaded now that I can get lost looking for the bad so much that the good surprises me. What do I do now? The only time I've been in love was to a literal goddess, and I can't even trust that my love was true, or just a byproduct of who she was. How do I know when I'm in love again? I want so badly to feel it, to enjoy it and savor it.

Could I be in love right now? I might be. But if so, I'm in love with a person I can't be with. But wasn't that like the first time? Everything comes around, right? I'm back at the beginning, falling in love with someone I know has a different future than I do.

By the time Will had stopped drinking, he was laying on the couch, his head on Ash's lap as he kept talking. At first, Ash didn't comprehend what he was saying. Who that fuck was this Erica Gal or whatever her name was? Why did she keep messing with Will's mind? But he kept talking, each past life explaining more and more of the mysteries.

She couldn't believe it. It was too much, and she immediately felt guilty. This was exactly why he didn't want to tell her; he knew that it wouldn't be something she could understand. She wasn't a religious person. Her father and Ben would go to their church, and both took it very seriously, to the point that her sexuality had been a constant source of contention and ridicule at home. Would this be easier for someone who had more faith? Or would that make it even harder, hearing about multiple gods?

Anna and Zach wouldn't have helped in this situation, they didn't have the same questions she had. They would probably assume it was some party trick that he could do when drunk. But she knew he believed this story.

She so wanted to believe it too.

The part when he talked about being committed when he tried to open up about the past had torn her heart in two, she had gone through something similar when coming out to the school and her family. The school was easier because nobody wanted to bully the senator's daughter, but she no longer had friends other than Anna and Will. She suspected there were others in the same position in school, but they were afraid to come out openly as well.

But she hadn't been committed.

Her father had threatened her with conversion therapy, but so far, he hadn't tried that because the political ramifications could get ugly. She had to support Will. Even if it was a fantasy, a figment of his imagination, she had to support him and treat it as real. She wanted to badly for it to be real, for him to be sane but somehow cursed, or blessed, or simply different.

She sat looking down at his sleeping face, her fingers idly running through his hair and just hoped she could be strong for him. He looked so peaceful; he'd never acted like someone who was dangerous except towards Ben. He had to be sane, she told herself, he couldn't be crazy. Could he? Tears silently dropped down her cheeks, so she had to lean back a little, so they didn't drop onto him. He needed the rest.