being human.
“it takes courage to see a world of imperfections and still choose to love it, but i think that was the point. when i carried him out of the pit, i saw the flaws. i saw the tears that never really healed, the bruises atop bruises, the bent spine holding his frame upright — all of which i could fix. but i also saw something that felt made to gaze upon, never touch. the stubborn heart beating at his core, every inch marked by fingerprints made from the empty promises of others or the desperation of himself to not feel so much. the desire to squeeze the life out of it until all that was left was a cracked cage and a mind spilling over. he never quite did it, though, and it made me wonder why. how often he came so close to the edge of himself and never stepped over. then, i realized it was what nestled inside that cage and hid beneath those fingerprints that made the difference. a slice of humanity i never understood until his soul was in my hands. until i wove myself through his body, pulled it together stitch by stitch, and watched it roam the earth — embracing, protecting, loving.
it was love, his will to love.
the need to not only give it and to feel it, but to be it. he was a world of imperfections, every layer poisoned and decayed, but his core... the center of him radiated a warmth he would’ve lost had i wiped each surface clean. had i started him anew. so, his choice to live was remarkable, but the certainty he granted me in keeping him as he was — to not change him, but be changed by him — was profound. to let my knowledge of love be born from his. to let him brand my heart the way i branded his soul. to choose to honor and worship him.
to choose to love him, even amidst his own ruin.
every moment caught in his orbit, basking in his light, was as close to being human as i would ever come, and it never once cost me courage. if anything, it granted me a choice, his strength — to love. to feel at all.”
— castiel
snippets of a story tainted by fate. (3/?)
