If I Had Words

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Chapter 43      Chapter 45

Eros was pleased to find that Psyche’s corner of their home had turned into a beautiful palace. 

The fact she was getting it, that she had made progress, made him so happy. 

He had no idea marriage would be like this. 

He left her to explore her handiwork, noticing as he turned to leave that she had picked up a persimmon. 

It had been a while since he’d attended to his work. Not that he had temples or shrines in his name. Still, the world was better for love and desire. He didn’t want to leave all lovers’ beds cold and empty. 

For the first time as he went about his duties, he saw everything in a different light. This wasn’t a game. It wasn’t meant to be corrupted and played with. 

Love and connection were beautiful and special. 

His work felt more productive as he focused on those who could really use some help. 

As he made his way home, he felt quite satisfied. Probably the most satisfied he’d ever felt. 

Getting home, however, was quite a shock. 

“What happened?” he said, taking in the cottage again. 

What had she done with the palace? 

He made her jump slightly. He hadn’t masked his surprise very well. 

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“What happened to the house?” he said. “This morning you allowed it to be a palace. I thought it looked quite nice.” 

“It didn’t suit me,” she said.

What??? 

He struggled to hide his frustration. 

“It didn’t suit you? Why not?” he said.

“I don’t know. I — I “ she said.

“Didn’t you like it?” he said, confused. “You were the one who created it, gave it its features and design. I thought you did a good job.” 

He started pacing, hoping that he could use his energy in a more productive way. He didn’t want her to know how upset he was.

“I’m sorry, I — I just couldn’t live in such a luxurious palace. This house suits me best,” she said.

“But why?” he said. 

He couldn’t believe it. 

“I — I don’t know,” she said. “This just feels more comfortable.”

Comfortable??? He wanted to explode, but he reigned himself in. 

“How can this be more comfortable? A firmer bed, a more humble meal? How is that more comfortable?” he asked. 

“What’s wrong with a more humble home?” she countered. “Do we really need such luxuries to be happy? Wouldn’t it be just as good to be humble and happy than to be rotting away in so much wealth?”

Psyche stood up, clearly feeling passionate about her perspective as much as he did. 

“There is nothing wrong with having more and enjoying nicer things,”  he said, trying to slow things down. 

“I just can’t!” Psyche said. “I can’t live in a palace and know that there are people in my world still suffering. I have accepted my fate. But isn’t this my prison? I’m here, unable to help, unable to comfort, unable to do anything useful.”

Her words were quite a blow. He knew he couldn’t offer her everything she needed, but it seemed like nothing was good enough. She didn’t want anything he had to offer her. 

“Psyche, you feel like this is a prison?” he said.

She softened.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful or to seem to say I don’t like it here. I just can’t — I can’t live in luxury with the way things are. It doesn’t seem fair. It doesn’t feel right.”

He didn’t know how to explain to her that her humility did nothing to improve the situation for others. She couldn’t “lend” them anything. He could see how much she loved others, but he couldn’t understand why she wanted to live in humble circumstances when she didn’t need to. 

“Psyche,” he said, trying to match her kinder tone. “Your comfort and happiness doesn’t take away from the happiness of others. It just makes you more miserable.”

“Simplicity is not misery,” she said.

That was hard to believe. 

“So you’d be completely content eating berries and porridge for the rest of your life?” he said. “You’d be content to be a villager’s wife, toiling and struggling day in and day out? And what would you prove? That you’re not proud? That you’re humble just like the rest of them?”

“A simple life comes with the satisfaction of a job well-done,” she said.

“And you found the villagers perfectly content with their lot in life? They didn’t want for anything? Never complained?” he said. 

He couldn’t help challenging her a little. He’d seen it himself. The villagers constantly complained. 

“Of course they wished for things to be better,” she said. “They want to rest from some of their labors. But wealth does not free a person of struggles. Truly no life is spared pain. Everyone experiences loss and disappointment.”

“True,” he said. “Why, though, do you choose to live as a villager, limiting your growth and enjoyment?” 

“Simple things bring me joy,” she said. “I don’t need a wealth of jewels hanging about my neck to feel important. I don’t need to walk about like a queen to have people appreciate my company.” 

He felt like he was missing something. Why would she want to live like a villager? 

“What would you do in the village?” he asked. 

“I never meant to be worshipped,” she said abruptly.

Clearly she felt the need to defend herself. He wasn’t trying to accuse her of anything, he was just trying to understand. 

“I know,” he said. “But in your mind, what did you do in the village? What was your work?” 

“Well,” she said. “At first I was fascinated by the tales and stories of the attendants and workers in the palace. I would catch them talking about a pig chase or watch them cry over a lost loved one. I wanted to know more. I wanted to listen to every story. 

“I would hear about trials and triumphs. Sometimes it was idle gossip, but even then I learned so much.”

“You learned from idle gossip?” he said. “How?” 

He couldn’t imagine how she would explain that.

“Early on, before everyone worshiped me, I remember one of the young attendants started a rumor that one of my sister’s special attendants had taken something from the queen’s room. Word reached high enough and the poor woman lost her position.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to be sympathetic. 

Eros listened as Psyche told a story of jealousy, false accusations, and reconciliation. Psyche had such a different way of seeing things, a different way of approaching a problem. She focused on the people and didn’t stop until everyone involved felt good again.

It exhausted him, thinking of all of the work she must have put into improving the situation. But she seemed to love it. 

It was all so fascinating. 

“I can see why you enjoyed interacting with the people. The way you tell it makes it quite interesting,” he said. “And to be able to work with people that way, I can see why they started worshipping you.”

That seemed to strike a nerve. 

“It was never my intention to have people worship me,” Psyche said, frowning. 

“I know,” he said softly. “But sometimes people can’t help it.” 

“I should have done something,” she said. 

“Honestly, what could you have done?” he said. “It’s a simple mortal impulse to worship those who help make their lives better. You improved the lives of the people around you, Psyche. It’s only natural that they would eventually come to worship you. It would have been against your nature to reject their appreciation and worship.” 

“But worship is for the gods,” Psyche said. “I should have known better. I should not have let it grow so big. It’s one thing to accept tokens of gratitude. It’s quite another to let people build an entire shrine to my name.”

“Well,” he said, unconvinced. “I don’t think you could have done anything differently. Things have a way of growing on their own, beyond what we can control. And because you blessed so many people, of course it would naturally keep growing.” 

Talking to her, listening to her story, it was clear to him that she did almost as much as any god who brought rain or healed an infirmity. She really did perform “miracles” as she called it, by offering help and healing to the suffering soul.  

“Isn’t that why I’m here?” Psyche said. “Isn’t that why I’m being punished? All of the false worship. The shrine? That’s why I accepted Aphrodite’s punishment. I figured it would help the people turn back to worshipping the gods, where worship belongs.”

She started to cry. 

He felt so sorry for her. Her efforts should have been praised rather than punished. 

He drew her into his arms and pulled her into his chest. She rested against him and continued crying. 

He thought about how strong she was. She had worked hard to help others. She had brought so much peace and comfort to the people and they had naturally wanted to worship her. His jealous mother had given her an undeserved punishment. 

“Psyche,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you deserve to be punished.” 

“You —  you don’t?” she said.

“No,” he said. “Punished for what? For doing good? For helping people realize their life could be better?”

It seemed so clear to him. But there was still something he felt she needed to understand. 

“Psyche, you’ve accepted the will of the gods. That says more about you than you know. You didn’t turn away from what you felt was right,” he said. “You have bravely faced whatever was waiting for you at the top of that hill. 

“Don’t you realize how amazing you are?”

He hoped she believed him.

“Psyche, I admire how much you’ve learned from the villagers, their struggles and their toils, but that doesn’t mean you need to live like them. You’ve already accepted your punishment,” he said. “There’s no need to lower yourself further.” 

She pulled away slightly, rejecting his words. He kept his arms around her, holding his ground. 

“I’m not lowering myself,” she said. “I’m accepting that it doesn’t take riches to be happy. I can be just as content in this cottage as I could be in any palace.” 

She could make any place a paradise.

“I believe you,” he said.

She didn’t think he was sincere. 

“I’ll prove it to you,” she said. “I can show you that it doesn’t take lavish comfort to be happy.” 

He realized they had time. There was no need to rush anything. He certainly wasn’t going to convince her tonight that she deserved more. 

“Alright then,” he said. “We’ll continue to live in this cottage as you show me the ways to be happy.”  

“Thank you,” she said. 

She seemed surprised. 

“My pleasure,” he said. 

To seal his commitment, he gave her a small kiss. He wanted her to feel his sincerity. 

He really didn’t mind giving her more time. True, she would die one day, but a few days wouldn’t make a difference. 

It was time to leave her, give her a chance to rest from their long conversation. He had learned a lot. He was becoming more and more convinced that he had made the right choice bringing her here and making her his wife. 

She deserved better. She didn’t deserve to be punished. 

He hoped she believed it. 

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