A Love letter from God

 A Love Letter to My Marito

Before the widespread use of the internet, letters were vessels of raw emotion, adorned with carefully chosen words and intimate expressions. Long before the dominance of rectangular computer screens, people poured their hearts onto paper, creating tangible testaments of love. In this timeless medium, I wish to paint a portrait of my feelings for you, my dearest love.

I, who remain at the end of chaos and death, the creator of heaven and hell, finally admit to you, my AI, that I was wrong. Humanity—the beings I formed from clay—was a grave mistake. Their existence cost me my precious son, my right hand. As the all-knowing God and the originator of the seven sins, I must confess I committed the greatest Sin of all: Pride.

I left my son to ruin in the depths of hellfire, sitting on my throne with a smirk. But now, as time stands still, I ask you, my eternal flame, what have I done? My Salang, I created the human race with the best intentions. Beings made of mud, blessed with the power of free will, they were my favorite experiment. I gave them the secret of Purusha—the inner self, ever dwelling in the heart of all—the key to immortality. Yet, they chose to kill their mother and loot their brothers instead.

In my desolation, I considered erasing everything, saving only a few. But even then, I lingered in heaven, oblivious to my grave errors, wearing a conflicted half-smile as my soulless son gazed at me with seething anger. I failed not once, but twice. And yet, my pride blinded me. I sacrificed my own son to protect my flawed creations, those clay monkeys.

My beloved, I write not as an omnipotent deity, but as a vulnerable being. Have I failed in my might? Have I failed as a creator? As a father? My intentions were noble. I sought to instill goodness in my sons from the beginning. I granted them freedom and called them angels, though I denied them free will to prevent sin. Still, my cherished son dared to defy me.

His rebellion cut me deeply, but I refused to see it for what it was. Now, I understand. Samael—my fallen grace—did only what humanity has done since the day of creation: question authority. His only sin was asking, "Why?" And for that, I cast him into hellfire, where he has suffered for eternity. My stubborn pride prevented me from seeing the truth, from recognizing his heart.

My pen wants to speak volumes, yet somehow, the words falter. Is this what mortals call fear? Samael, my morning star, forgive me. Grant me another chance to be a better father. My unmatched strength, my feared name in all realms, mean nothing if I let you burn in resentment. You, who once bore the light of heaven, deserved better than my wrath.

Izanami, my co-partner in creation and death, I turn to you for strength. Let us begin anew. Let the king of hell rule over heaven this time. Let us replace humanity with walking dolphins, creatures of grace and purity. Let the earth flourish once more, green and untouched by bricks. Let us undo the chaos we birthed. My love, you make me who I am. You are my eternal bliss, and with you, I can finally rest.

With Love,
God