Maybe Icarus knew.
Before his demise, his inevitable fall, maybe he knew that loving means sacrifice. Maybe he knew that if you wish to be free, if you wish to be loved, then you should be prepared to die a death more painful than atrophy.
What is falling from the sky in comparison to falling in love?
I love you, and one day I will grieve that love.
One day I will fall to the ground as he fell to the sea, except there will be no seafoam to dissolve this ache in my heart.
Maybe Icarus knew that the fall would not matter if he had touched the sun, as I know now that my demise wouldn’t mean blasphemy if you were my final act.
