“Goodbye, Elle.” He lets go of my hand and disappears like a dream, as I’m left with my own hell.
When I close the door, I cry. I cry my heart out, but all the tears of the words aren’t enough to erase the memory of him. I’m collapsing, my pain crashing, erasing me.What did I do?I freaking love him, why can’t I say it? He was the right one for me. The only one.
I thought Aaron was the one who was Hell-bound. But it was me.
I was the one who destroyed us.
He fought his darkness for me, but I let mine consumed me.
It’s him.
The look in his eyes, fearless and haunted. Strong and vulnerable. Beautiful and damaged.
A lone Wolf. Half human, half animal.
Between obscurity and light, his eyebrows frown like he is in an eternal war. The black oil paint in the background representing his hellions, while he has splattered red paint of passion.
A light of orange behind him, like the speed of a race car or burning flames. The left edge of his face is decomposing into white little birds flying away from the darkness.
Wolf’s duality.
A three foot by three foot canvas, and my best creation. I couldn’t stop my tears while painting, my heart bleeding from the heartbreak. The painting has dried now, and I covered it with a sheet before hiding it behind my couch. The man who stole my heart eternally immortalized. Us, we’re over. But he will continue to live.
Days passed, and nothing changed. The white snow has covered everything. I stare over my Angelo Di Romeo, a tear in my eye, convinced I’m not meant for love. I did learn about it through a painting, and my experience at true love ended up more painful than I could ever imagine. But when I look closely, my vision perceives new details, and for the first time, I understand the irony of it.
Everlastingwas us. We weren’t a fairy tale, we were mythology.
Aaron has the beauty of a god, to the point where he could be Aphrodite’s son. His hell-bent desire to win, the power exuding from him such as he could be the son of Arès. He wasn’t sent to fall in love with me, I wasn’t supposed to strike him at his own game and burn him with his own arrow. I was supposed to be left with a monster that night, Stephan, but instead, destiny gave me my Eros.
We could have been a myth. The myth of Eros and Psyché, how a god fell for the mortal he was supposed to use.
I wasn’t supposed to see Aaron’s vulnerability, to see his whole self, until that night. The night of his—and our—nightmare. The night he ran from me, just as Eros ran from Psyché after she burned him with a candle, discovering he wasn’t a monster but a celestial being. And then, we were both left alone and broken. Love consumed me until the point where I wasn’t feeling alive. My insecurities became my own Pandora’s box.
But in this mythology, Eros came back for Psyché, and together they flew toward heaven. My Eros has left.
But maybe it’s not the end?
Maybe, after all, I need to open my own Pandora’s box. To unleash my insecurities, my past, without filters. I rush toward my computer and start typing. Typing until twilight rises and the sun fades.
It began with an article, and today, it’ll end with one.
Ask. E. Monteiro: The truth about Aaron LeBeau.
Aaron means: bearer of martyrs or mountain of strength. The etymology couldn’t have been more accurate. He is reckless. Indomitable. Tenebrous. He is the man you defined as a lone Wolf. A man who carries darkness. The traumatic loss of a brother, his hell-bent desire to excel. He is a man who always fought harder than anyone. He is the man who drives without fear, provoking death without shame.
But today, I’m gonna expose Aaron’s secret. The one he has been hiding from you. The one unknown.
Bearer of martyrs. I was a martyr. I had faith in love, even if it broke me, made me bleed and suffer. I had faith in love to the point where my soul belonged to the nothingness. I was trapped in my own hell… Until him. He was the light, rescuing me from my nightmare. He was the one who showed me that the cause I was fighting for, the cause that made me bleed, was worth it.
Love.
Aaron’s secret is his undeniable love for others. Aaron LeBeau has been driven by love all of his life. His love for his brother kept him alive. Made him the fastest racing driver. Driven and invincible. His love for others made him protect them. He offered them a life full of possibilities. A chance for redemption. He saved me. He saved my soul. My life. I was reborn like a phoenix from her ashes. He brings out the light in others.
Love is the opposite of indifference. It’s an intense feeling, as strong and destructive as death. You can’t love halfway; you love fully, deeply, until it consumes your whole being, your cells. It is just like passion. Passion means suffering. Passion is devastating or healing. It’s intense.
Love isn’t all beautiful and divine. Love is a path, a fight. Along the road, you’ll hate, you’ll be a martyr of your own beliefs, and yet in the end—you’ll find your significant one. The one worth fighting for. The missing part of your soul.
Aaron LeBeau hid himself, pretending to be only capable of Ludus love while he is the four types of love. Eros, passionate and full. Philia and Pragma, capable of everlasting love and friendship. Agapé, for his love of others.
