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I couldn’t find a title for this one because I’m trying this new thing where I just let things be. I don’t think about it too much, and I don’t have any expectations of an end result. I just let it be. 

I’m not so sure how this will end or how I will get to an end. All I know is that I have a road and some sort of intention, and that will have to do for now. 

I like to assume that everything is always black and white. There isn’t a grey area. An unknown. 

I’ve never been a fan of the unknown. I like to know. 

I’ve always been that way. Ever since I was a kid, I had to know why the sky was blue. My mom said it was because God’s favorite color was blue. 

I had to know why the leaves changed colors every couple of months and didn’t just stay green. I also had to know why they fell off when it was cold, and how it was that they would just grow back so easily every year at the beginning of March. My mom said it was because God wanted it that way and to stop talking because we were in the middle of mass, and it wasn’t polite to talk while the priest was talking. 

Again, I had to know it all. Some call it being nosy; I call it being informed. Ultimately, that’s what it is—being informed of what is going on around me. It’s a good way to stay safe and guarded. That’s how I’ve always seen it, at least. 

Like, for example, there’s a legend in Mexico about two lovers torn apart by a false rumor. Why? Because there’s always haters out there, that’s why. 

The legend goes as follows:

Once, in ancient Mexico, there were two powerful and noble tribes: the Aztecs and the Tlaxcaltecas. In the Aztec tribe, there was a young warrior named Popocatépetl, which means “Smoking Mountain” in the Náhuatl language. He was a brave and valiant warrior who fell in love with a beautiful princess named Iztaccíhuatl, which means “White Woman.” Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl were deeply in love, and their love was so strong that it filled the hearts of the entire tribe. They planned to get married and were eagerly awaiting their union. However, their love was put to the test when a false rumor spread that Popocatépetl had been killed in battle. Devastated by the news, Iztaccíhuatl couldn’t bear the pain and sorrow, and her heart gave out. She passed away, never knowing the truth. 

When Popocatépetl returned from the battlefield and learned of Iztaccíhuatl’s death, he was heartbroken. He carried her lifeless body to the mountains and laid her to rest in a beautiful spot. He knelt beside her, and the gods, seeing the true love between them, turned them both into mountains. Popocatépetl became the volcano known as Popocatépetl, often referred to as “Popo,” and his eternal vigil of love and devotion to Iztaccíhuatl, who became the volcano Iztaccíhuatl, often called “Ixta,” continues to this day. Popocatépetl is an active volcano, and it is said that the occasional plumes of smoke and ash are his sighs of love and grief for his lost love.

I like this story. 

I like knowing that despite what had torn them apart in the physical world, they were still able to come together in the spiritual world. 

Knowing that your soul is meant to be with another soul is probably one of the most fruitful feelings a person could have. There’s a comfort that comes with just knowing. Regardless of what it is that you know, the certainty is safe. It’s rewarding. It’s comforting. 

Recently, that exact volcano erupted in Mexico. I think it was at the beginning of 2021. During this natural occurrence, while many were evacuating the small town, others stayed behind to watch the eruption. It was said that this was the release of the souls of the warrior and the princess. People swore that the fumes formed the silhouette of the warrior carrying the lifeless body of his beloved for the last time before they became these mountains. People swore it was the prophecy of their love, showing that against all odds, they belonged to each other both in life and in death. 

How beautiful. 

To know you belong somewhere. 

To know you hold value. 

To know your love is matched. 

To know. 

Just to know. How enchanting certainty can be. 

This isn’t meant to be the summary of a love story that dates back to pre-Hispanic times. This isn’t meant to be the solace for the empty hearts and the unmatched love that is often put out into the world. 

This is meant to solidify the idea. The belief. The knowledge. The knowing. 

Of what?

Who knows. That’s for you to figure out, for me to figure out, for all of us to figure out. 

What do we want to know? How can we know? Why do we need to know?

For me? I’m not sure. I feel like I’m getting close, though.