Well, hello to you, too! Jason Stackhouse (Ryan Kwanten) has some great lines in the first season of True Blood. Rewatching it has been a real pleasure. It's 21st century Shakespeare on crack. Or, V if you prefer. Rutina Wesley (Tara), Nelsan Ellis (Lafayette), Sam Trammell (Sam), Kristin Bauer van Straten (Pam), Deborah Ann Woll (Jessica)...what a cast! And I haven't even gotten to the season with Denis O'Hare yet. Russell Edgington is my favorite vampire of all time, just as Denis is one of my favorite people.
I woke today after four-o'clock this moring. Used to call early wake-ups my psychic-alarm. Now, I wonder if it's me. My ability. To connect with another. Only really happens with one soul. This particular phenomenon anyway. Unlike True Blood protagonist, Sookie Stackhouse (Anna Paquin), who can connect with everyone--except vampires, of course. But I'm not a telepath. Or, a vampire. I'm all-too human. But I am awake! For us folks without fae-blood, such connections are more like a conduit; it goes both ways. Odd, too. To know that the connection exists. Odd, but interesting. Very interesting.
Watching True Blood reminds me of how love can make monsters human. But the circumstances that created the monster in the first place never go away. Neither does the love. The trick to balancing both is being self-aware enough to recognize your monster-triggers so you don't self-sabotage your own personal miracle. That takes some practice. Even for a 1,000-year old vampire....
What would have happened to Bill if Sookie hadn't forsaken him? Would he have still become the ultimate evil...in the end??? Or, would her love have saved him? I'd like to believe the latter. Of course, the series finale shows Sookie living the life she first dreamed of having with Bill. Except, with a human man. Human friends. All gathered around her table. Eating human food, drinking human drink, and laughing at human things. I'm not sure that's really a happy ending though. Conformity is never happy. Unless you enjoy living in a cage.
Hearts don't break evenly when love is lost. Someone always loves deeper. Usually the person who has suffered more physical loss prior to the love-relationship. That individual is more grateful as a result. Also, more vulnerable. That'd be me--the immortal soul who has died a thousand deaths and lived a thousand lifetimes in just one. Yet it still took four decades to find what I was missing. That alone makes me want to weep forever. The downside to immortality.
Bill sacrifices himself to save Sookie in the last episode of season one. But things happen in between. Despite the connection between Sookie and Bill. Despite the real love. Bill even becomes violent toward Sookie after his past drags him backwards. Backwards to his old life. That same social-drag prevents Bill from moving forward. He wants to leave, marry Sookie. But Bill never gets his happy ending. Sookie doesn't either. Sure, she lives out her life, finds companionship...but she never loves anyone the way she loves Bill. That never leaves her eyes either. The loss. Not even in the final scene of the final episode of the final season. Anna Paquin is an award-winning actress after all. But she and Stephen Moyer, who plays Bill Compton, have a real-life romance, despite their age-difference. Paquin turns 35 this year; she's a Leo, like me. While Moyer is 47. Perhaps another similarity between the HBO hit series and the narrative of lost-love emerging from my analytics.
Love has no finality. It is infinite. It's also ageless. There are no limits with love. No boundaries. Except, the ones we create ourselves. You must tell the person you love (even if lost) that you, in fact, love them, or, neither of you can ever act upon it. No matter how many years go by, or how many tears you shed. And, while the love between two souls never dies, people do. Even immortal-people, like me.
Sookie challenges Bill's lies and omissions and half-truths. If he's willing to keep secrets from her--even if willing to sacrifice himself for her--what kind of future can they possibly have? See, I think that Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball...they got it wrong. Bill just needed to come clean with Sookie. He needed to come clean, and stay far, far away from the people dragging him backwards. Cut ties with the bad influences. Start fresh. Live the life he wanted to live with Sookie. Be happy. Be free. But that takes courage. You have to put away things like ego and pride, too. Not everyone values love, or life, enough to do that.
Guess that same tragedy still wakes me up at night. Keeps me up, too. The tragedy of real love getting lost in the human shuffle. Real love is the only real miracle we humans have left. Bill calls Sookie his miracle. The feeling of finding your miracle, but learning it's tainted by things like murder and mayhem (and arrows) is sadness incarnate. I'll never stop crying about it. Somehow, the grief never gets stale either. It's as fresh as the memory of what love itself smells like.
I hope I don't die before knowing it again. Joy, that is. I sometimes worry that any future joy will be as short-lived as the joy of my past. Yet I will somehow live on and on and *fucking* on. Ad infinitum. Ad nauseum. My words guarantee it. For, silence is the language of the dead.
That last paragraph? That's my immortality showing. My fangs, as it were. I rarely use them though. My wings, however, are a different story.
Art comes from the deep sadness of living an immortal life amidst the fragile and broken. That is why True Blood is true art. Ms. Harris and Mr. Ball, and all the creatives who helped develop the living, breathing art of True Blood, have done a great service to humanity. To me. Even years later, your art is still connecting souls--like Bill and Sookie.
That's what I call full circle. As big and round as a big-bellied Moon impregnated by the light and warmth of the Sun. The conduit again. Frustrating to be so close, yet so very far, far away. But I suppose I should just be grateful for small miracles, right?
Of course, there is no such thing as a small miracle. The miracle of love itself is as close to magic as humans will ever get. And, magic is powerful.
So am I....
*completed 6/16/17 (or #777, "Miracles") 12:21pm...by the way, "God" does not hate fangs. There is no hate in the Universe outside of humans, or rather, primates. Energy is just energy within the cosmos. It is only creatures with opposable thumbs and complex brains who can turn that energy into something positive, like love, or negative, like hate. Denying real love is negative, too. Because it causes unnecessary pain. Love means choosing kindness over cruelty, compassion over judgment, gratitude over attitude, solutions over problems, and positives over negatives. Anyone who truly loves you would never wittingly ask you to cause pain to others or make sacrifices that hurt you and your future. When you love yourself unconditionally, you can more easily identify who has your best interests at heart, and, who doesn't. Until then, watch out for the shapeshifters of this world!