IF I CAN’T HAVE LOVE I WANT POWER
By Maha Qadri
Models: Skyler Burk, Beck Preciado; HMUA: Mariam Ali; Photographer: Casey Tang; Stylist: Melina Perez
Love. It only reared its gut-wrenching ugly head once in her life, but, damn, if wasn’t already once too many. She never felt butterflies or some otherworldly sense of rightness; no, all she felt was pressure. Pressure to act, pressure to attract, pressure to conform. Like she strayed too close to a black hole and couldn’t escape its orbit, doomed to one day collide and become one. Her life was no longer hers, now the barren outline lay before her, just waiting for her to step into her role.
And the worst part is that she could see it: The two of them living out a life that was already carved out for them. Dating, marriage, kids, and then patiently waiting ‘til death do they part.
This must be what’s meant for me, she thought. I am a person to whom things happen. So, with a sour taste in her mouth, she patiently bided her time, waited to act, attract, and conform.
She waited and waited, growing bored every day that nothing happened to her as it usually did. Waiting for the inevitable was no more stressful than waiting for the unknown. Years passed and her patience wore thin, and she became so bored that she decided to make things happen herself.
They swam with the devil, bathed in honey, and started asking for forgiveness, not permission.
They raced through the universe of their own making, leaving a trail of stars and supernovas in their wake. They became something… more. They were no mere black hole, but the fabric of space and time itself. Influence, wealth, status, worldly words like these could not describe their reach. Pure unadulterated power flowed in their veins.
The bleak life that had once been thrust upon them was now several light-years behind them. They realized that that “love” had never been enough, so happily they gave it up.
Power was far sweeter.
Finally, they felt butterflies and that cosmic sense of rightness. They were not dragged into orbit; they crafted their own galaxy, putting themself in the center. Heavenly bodies and people alike were caught in their greatness. Happiness, rage, passion, sadness circled simultaneously.
Love may not have been enough, but it, too, orbited like a comet, only making contact once every century or so. But it no longer “happened” to them. Love came when it was created and sustained, no longer taking as it pleased.
I create what is meant for me, they thought. I am a person who carves their own path.
