Have you ever truly believed in one of the great gods of Greek mythology? I used to believe in several gods of power and beauty and limitlessness and fiction. I believed in the gods of my siblings. You see, I did not grow up with most of my predecessors. Yes, I grew up with them in the sense that I knew all of their names and ages. However, their memories were not mine and my struggles brought faint recollection to the backs of their minds. They had been through it all and came out unscathed. They returned home clad in gold, riding on white horses. The preparation for their return would take weeks, but they found fault with the company of my house and took refuge with people more deserving of their time. Yet, I never questioned it. It always seemed to make sense. They were too great. But one can not be in error for being great.
In every aspect of their lives, they would summon awe. They were the gods of my childhood. They were too good to be true. They were stories my mother told at family gatherings, memories that I had no recollection of in houses I had never seen. They were the people I claimed to love most in the world. I would pick favorites and speculate at the things these gods did when they weren’t toying with the fates. In every way, I believed in them, but I was sure they were only in my dreams. I would wake up, more certain each morning that I had created them. Who were they? I don’t know. But I can tell you what I saw.
They were the illumination in a room. All who saw them would hesitate, taking a moment to bask in their light. Each had their own unique glory. But glory nonetheless. And they knew it. They knew it. I looked on them with not quite envy, but with something lacking the innocence of admiration. Their bronze skin a shade mine had never reached. Their words smoother and their looks defined. As I grew I raced to trace a map through labyrinths of their minds. Through acceptance letters and valedictorian speeches, through team captain titles and preposterous adventures, they dominated my every thought. And as gods, they did not take no for an answer. They were bold, bright and brave, their tongues shot out like spears slicing through hopes cutting down dreams, reminding you exactly where you stood and making sure your feet were planted firmly on the ground. This was no fault of their own. It was simple, unindented intimidation. In the shadow of a god, a mortal does not challenge their ways.
But slowly I grew, and my eyes began to reach theirs. I saw more clearly into their souls. I saw something strange, something real and something human.
Then at once, their whole world collapsed in one sudden burst. One day, a goddess came to me. She came and she sat; she looked me in the eyes. She began to cry, and she let me hold her. Me. And in one moment I lost a god and gained a sister.
And so they fell, one by one gracefully crashing into existence. And my family grew. And my heartbeat. And we were one, yet sometimes, in the roar of their laugher, in the turn of their smile, in the secrets of their whispers, I can still see a faint glow…