Ryan’s taking Greek Mythology this semester and I love hearing about all of the things he’s learned. He recently learned of the gods of Olympus. We spoke of Zeus and Hera.

I googled Hera later. Man. She was kind of a crazy. She was awfully jealous (I can relate) and did some evil things. She even threw her own son, Hephaestus, from Mount Olympus because he was ugly.

And Ryan says Zeus went around fucking everyone. He would disguise himself and have mortal women begging for more. He had three wives and Hera was his sister. And countless children from different mothers. And Ryan says that’s the way it is with the god’s of Olympus, they can do whatever they want with neither guilt or punishment.

In a way I can sympathize. Don’t most men dream of having more than one sexual partner? And if I were Hera, and Zeus was my husband, I’d probably tear up the heavens. I don’t know much but it seems Hera wasn’t so bad before Zeus raped her.

And isn’t this the state of us mortals today? In a sense, some of us live out the conflicts of the gods of Olympus. Only with us, there is crime and punishment. Guilt.

I told Ryan that if I were a Greek goddess and he were my Greek god husband, I would banish all women from the heavens so that I was the only one.

How can something so wrong make me feel so right?

Over the past year or so I’ve been striving for purity. I want to be the best person I can be. I want to be kind, unselfish, loving, mindful, patient, non-judging. Hardest of all, I want to erase every trace of my jealousy. I just read journal entries from years ago and I was a selfish brat and I said whatever I was thinking without remorse. I wish I could say I don’t recognize that girl.

But I put her in a wooden drawer with no handles and shut her away. And sometimes when I get depressed she cries and bangs; she rattles the whole dresser screaming to get out. She is possessed by evil because she is where all the bad things go. Anyone could understand why I had to put her in there.

But man. Sometimes when I’m bad and I listen to her muffled words, it’s like I’m Hera and I’ve been released from Hephaestus’ magical throne that wouldn’t allow me to leave. I feel free.

So where is the middle path between the extremities of the gods of Olympus and the repressed life of the mortal?