|Mary Magdalene (gospel_of_mary) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2014-04-03 21:02:00
|Entry tags:||huitzilopochtli, mary magdalene|
WHO: Mary & Huitzilopochtli
WHEN: Saturday night, the 5th
WHERE: Huitzi's place
WHAT: Easter is coming up! Yaaaay!
WARNINGS: language, mentions of cannibalism, talking way too much about Jesus?
Easter was coming closer. For Mary this day was inescapable and indescribable and the closer it came the worse she slept. Only two weeks to go, and Mary knew from memory that the two week point was where it began to truly rub her soul into a state of rawness. But every year the mortals demanded on 'celebrating' earlier and earlier, with stores throwing EASTER! at her the moment she went anywhere near them. No talk of Him, but there didn't need to be yet. It was enough just to be reminded.
She didn't want to be here with Huitzilopochtli right now, but she needed the comfort he offered. She needed someone there when she woke up from her nightmares to offer comfort, even if that comfort brought her further guilt. She hadn't told him what the nightmares were about. She hadn't mentioned what day was coming too quickly to swallow her up. She wanted to ignore it and pretend it wasn't happening. She wanted this year to be okay.
This time last year she had been lamenting the loss of the Aztec to her, had been ranting drunken to George about how she had never thought she could love again after Him but had found the Hummingbird. She had beaten Judas until he was a bloodied pulp staining her apartment floor, screaming and wanting him to die as much as she wanted to die.
Huitzilopochtli. Jesus. Judas. It was all guilt and darkness and lust and loss. She didn't know how to be complete, and she didn't know how to be the woman that Jesus had once asked her to be. He had expected so much of her then. He had believed she could be so great and useful and strong. Mary wasn't sure she'd ever lived up to any of His beliefs.
She sat tonight on the edge of Huitzi's balcony, trying to decide when she should leave this place. She knew she couldn't be here on the actual day. The guilt and agony would eat her alive, and she would destroy the Aztec's love for her along with it. She took another swig from the bottle in her hand and pressed her head to the cold concrete wall beside her.