Your girlfriend recently became an angel. Nobody else is sad about it. It's supposed to be something that everyone is proud of. Her family is so happy that she's becoming something so important. When people who barely even know you hear that it happened they congratulate you. She says that she's happy she's doing it though she clearly has more complex feelings about it then most people. Most people have rather mundane feelings about people like her.
People think that the difference between gods and angels is that one is more power. But really the difference is that one is more free. Gods exist by virtue of their own will, and are creatures with absolute freedom. Angels serve the functions of the universe and exist to maintain specific types of order. One is a creature of pure chaos the other is a creature of pure order.
When she became an angel everyone sat around her in church and put their hands on her. You expected to see her body transform, but instead it died, it just fell down and did all the things a dead body would, and then her new angelic form came out from its corpse, like how a butterfly doesn't share any anatomy with a caterpillar. And while everyone else was looking at and complimenting her new angelic body you just took her corpse, and held it for so long, and cried, and you didn't even know why you felt like you had to cry when she was right there.
When she was preparing to become an angel she was always talking about doing things she wanted to as a human, because she understood that soon she wouldn't be able to do them anymore. It felt sometimes as if she was preparing to die. Last time getting high. Last time eating her favorite food. Last time watching an R rated movie. Last time making love. Last time drawing. Last time sleeping in under the light of a sunmer sun. And there was this understanding in her eyes the entire time that everything she was doing she would miss. But there was this understanding in her voice that it was too important that she would be an angel for her to truly mourn, that all she could be was quietly resigned that she wouldn't have the freedom to do those things.
You asked her sometimes why she wanted to be an angel. And you never wanted to push back too much because you know that it mattered to her a lot. But she always said that it was to help people, that it was her duty to the world, that she could do so much for everyone. And beyond that she knew that she would be praised, that everyone would be proud of her, that nobody is disappointed with an angel. There was of course things she wanted, things she was excited for. But it was always duty first, always the fact that she believed that the world needed more angels more then it was that she believed that she would be happiest as one. You wondered if she would have killed herself to save the world if she had the chance.
When she became an angel and you saw her again it was like you weren't looking at her anymore, the wings coming out of her back looking as if they restrained her. She lacked nipples or sex organs yet for some reason her hips were wider and breasts were bigger. Her beautiful tattoos were gone, her lovely brown eyes and black hair forever stained blue and blond respectively. You were looking at a version of version of that was diminished, a version of her that had some of her old elements, but that had all the parts of her that weren't needed, or that someone might find objectionable, violently cut away. They took what they needed from her and destroyed everything else, like her own identity was a butchered corpse.
They say that angels never choose who they kill. They just know when someone needs to die and then they do it. If you ever do something that the angelic hierarchy sees as a threat she'd be the closest one to you. You know there are more important things now then her love for you.
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