From the upcoming novel, Greece Is My Anthi (2023)

From Journal of Love in Greece
Map of Greece
Map of Greece (CC BY-SA 3.0) via Wikimedia Commons

Note 1 – May 12, 2021

The real world is much smaller than the imaginary. Nietzsche

Crete (Region 4) became heaven for Anthi and M; I mean me. We left Athens (the largest city in Region 1) for Crete as friends and returned to Athens twelve days later as inseparable lovers. Anthi refused to speak to her husband, already considering him her ex and her why, although Delphine had come out from their union as the only worthwhile and beautiful result. I loved her, but I was green when thinking that Delphine could call me Father or Dad instead of M. I never planned to be a father, although I could never have declined the idea of a daughter like her. She was as wonderful as her mother, and the direct cause of our union, having revealed that her father had been cheating on and deceiving Anthi. I could not believe it. How could anyone in their right mind prefer someone else over Anthi? I figured that he must be demented and or as stupid as stupid can get. We were meant to be together. It was set in motion after the Big Bang. Goddess Athena only facilitated our primordial desire to be together, granting us a union in our nightly dreams. But it was Delphine who hastened our coming together — pun intended, perhaps.

Anthi filed for a divorce as soon as we got off the plane. I listened to her speak to a lawyer, unable to understand much or let go of the hand not holding the phone; it was her right. My need to touch her was extreme but mutual. She was blue-and-white flowers and I was a thousand bees. I could not get enough of her nectar, which was available all over her skin. Our first night together was still fresh in my mind and my flesh, and I could see it in Anthi’s eyes, looking at me with her love seeping through like her wetness all through the night. It is difficult to describe the feeling that I have when I look at her and really see her. It is as if she contains my soul. She carried it in her heart until over a day ago when she returned it to me to try out for twelve days and nights. Yet I still feel that she holds it, perhaps in her eyes, or it is possible that my soul is hiding between her toes. It could be the reason why I love to count them each time, perhaps unconsciously thinking that I could count to eleven, finding ten toes and one soul.

We loved Crete but Athens is home, which now has grown by two hearts. Athena and Patrick remained as they were, the original couple and together until the end. Eléni and M have now become, Anthi and M. My heart flutters just writing it. Anthi and M. I want to write it again and again. Anthi and M. Eléni was happy to remain with us and possibly live with Delphine, who was glad to see her mother happy and in love. Glaukopis was glad to return to perching on the olive tree, which was happy too, rustling its leaves approvingly. What seemed almost impossible just days ago became reality for Anthi and M; I mean me. I loved our Goddess Athena and I loved Greece, but I was in love with Anthi, and frankly, it is and will always be the one that counts the most, especially in a wooden heart that expands whenever she is near and almost breaks when she is too far. My soul is worthless without her, which may explain why I always felt soulless before finally meeting her. Life without her had been meaningless. She was the meaning of my life all along my various paths. It was the Greek path that turned out to be the right one for me, and for both of us as a result, since her path led her to me. Her eyes can often replace her words. I look at them and know that she is the end of my path, that I have reached my final destination, and it seems that I was hers as well.

Delphine told me that she never saw her mother happier. I hugged her and told her that I too was never happier, as well as happy to have met her, my Anthi’s daughter. She looked happy and told me that she loved me. I could not hold the tears. I have to ask Athena for some help. I have nothing against crying, but I am a sea of tears. Anthi then joined us for a group hug and, of course, I had to cry some more. Tears of joy may sound like a contradiction. Laughter may be higher on the scale of wellbeing, but crying, while lower, has its own spectrum. O Anthi, my love! Je t’aime tellement (I love you so much). I want to dance with you from A to A to start, and then dance with you, my Anthi, until my last step.

Leonard Cohen – Dance Me to the End of Love

Every note in this journal is dedicated to Anthi Psomiadou, who kindly agreed to reprise her role as Anthi Kanéna, the main character of this journal and the previous series. It is only because of her that this journal will be kept. I had decided to end the story at the previous series following Part 37, but Anthi’s comment touched me deeply, triggering the idea of a continuation of the story in the form of a daily journal, which will report some of the events in Anthi’s and M’s life together in Greece and anywhere else that their path may lead them. Thank you for caring, Anthi! You are wonderful and surely one of a kind.

Journal of Love in Greece has 36 notes and is the third chapter of the novel, Greece Is My Anthi.