Eléni & M Move to Athens - Part 15

This new series has its history in the form of several short stories, several poems, and a 13-part series that is linked at the bottom via Part 14 of this series. Anthi Psomiadou has graciously agreed—oui je suis sûr (yes I am sure)—to continue to appear as a fictional character also called, Anthi (flowers, in Greek), as she did in the first series. Blue-and-white flowers in blue-and-white Greece. What a sight! What a scene! My heart could stand still.

There is only one good, knowledge, and one evil, ignorance. Socrates

I kissed Anthi, good night, when we all retired for the night, on both cheeks, lingering on the right, imagining every sight of her love. But I kissed her mouth in her mind and she kissed me back. We felt our hearts becoming tumefied as my lips parted from her cheek. I often wondered if it was cheating, imagining love and or lust with someone else. There are, of course, two camps, and both may be wrong and right. It must depend on the circumstances. Dreaming of Goddess Athena must be permitted. Dreaming of Anthi Kanéna must also follow the same prescription: Take at least twice a day, preferably with some Greek food and a shot of tsipouro, and never despair. She will always be there, at least in my mind.

Without Goddess Athena’s knowledge, though she probably knew it, we rented a small yacht and had it renamed, Athena Forever. There was a problem at first, but with the right price, we were able to seal the deal when we accepted the lettering to be temporary like a fake tattoo, hoping that it would not rub off for at least a few days. But then we decided to have it epoxied permanently, paying a top premium, since the sky was the limit. Anything for our beloved goddess would have been alright. How could it not? The artist wanted to take her time but we insisted on the yacht being ready for our third day in Crete, which is this morning.

We had ordered it from Athens with my Anthi’s, I mean, Anthi’s assistance, insistence, and persistence. She was even beautiful over the phone, and I am sure that the artist knew it too. I think that I fell in love with her then. We were together outside in the garden, sitting under an olive tree, with Glaukopis on her right shoulder. I told the little owl not to say anything to our goddess given that it was going to be a surprise. Glaukopis said oui (yes), and the rest was like the art of the deal, except that Anthi was real, Greek, and a woman to die for. Yes, I was already smitten with her back in Athens.

We left the house in mid-morning and headed to the Plaka Marina, where the Athena Forever was waiting for us. The small yacht looked splendid, blue and white, and Athena did not know, since she had tears in her eyes. It was a first for us, except Patrick, seeing our goddess tearing, but they were tears of joy. She had already cried with Patrick when they had watched Charlie Chaplin as well as the horrors of our world wars. We all hugged and kissed her when she suddenly disappeared. We looked for her around the yacht, hearing her calling us in our minds to come aboard. She was standing on the bow, looking at us with love and some pride in her eyes. She thanked us by kissing each one of us on the mouth, as she always does, whispering in our ears that she loved us no matter what. I was not sure what she meant until I met Anthi’s eyes. They were glistening with a light I do not remember ever seeing before. I saw her love, but there was something more, something less palpable, something that was melting me inside.

We had also hired a captain, a Mr. Chloros (Green)—he must love trees—who was waiting for us on board in the cockpit as was agreed upon. He welcomed us aboard, kissed Athena’s hand, saluted the rest of us, and asked Athena’s permission to take us out to sea, the Sea of Crete, part of the Aegean Sea, both part of the Mediterranean. Athena nodded yes and we were on our way for a tour around Crete. We had brought with us some provisions in case those already on the yacht were insufficient, but the boat was stocked for a queen, and our goddess never considered herself more than the woman we all loved. Glaukopis seemed happier than usual, perched on Athena’s right shoulder before deciding to fly onto Anthi’s. What a lucky bird! I thought, wishing for a moment to be a bird too. Any little bird that would fly and rest on Anthi, wherever she would let me. It seems that I also said it to her mind inadvertently, since she looked at me, smiling and replying to my mind that anywhere would be fine.

At one point, a few minutes later, I kissed Eléni and asked Anthi to please follow me. I am sure that you must be wondering by now about Eléni’s reactions to my accrued interest in Anthi. She did not say anything because she also loved Anthi. Not in the same way, I suppose, but I am not sure. She had mentioned in the past, before I accepted to be with her (it is in at least one of the short stories preceding the first series), that she would even share me with another woman. I was surprised at the time, since I never saw myself as someone who could be desired to that extent, and surely not any kind of an Adonis. Moreover, I never saw myself being with two women at the same time. I always wanted one woman. But she loved me so much that she was willing to share me with my muse. I have too many muse-related stories to explain this, but I will just say that my muse was as real as Goddess Athena, and Anthi Kanéna who at this moment in time has my mind and my heart. This moment, however, could last until my demise. There are long moments in life, and this one was becoming a permanent feeling full of love yet not at the stage of lust. I wanted to kiss Anthi all over her skin, but such an action, more often than not, leads to blissful lust.

Anthi followed me to the deck where we contemplated both the sea and the sky. Je t’aime encore plus, I love you even more, I said to the wind.

“I love you too,” Anthi replied, looking at me straight in the eyes. “But we cannot take this any further.”

I know. I know too well. But I had to find out how long I will be hurting inside. Now, I know that it is going to be long and winding.

“No, dear M! I will do what I can to give us some of the love that we could have had. I love you too, as I said. But my other family negates anything more between us. Things may change. Perhaps our Athena knows. But now, at this moment, we can only be together as we already are. We can still love each other. I know that I will love you and I am sure that you will love me, but we have to keep it cerebral, my M. Yes! You are also my M, but in a different way.”

I could not stop the tears, which a breeze swept away. I was sure that it was Athena’s love reaching out. Anthi’s tears were also wiped, but it was me kissing and tasting them. They were mostly sweet like her entire being. I kissed her lightly, not to force myself, but she kissed me back with more intent. I never felt so alive. I had not prayed in over thirty years, but I knew that I would start praying to Goddess Athena for some type of miracle. I knew that she loved me, and thus hoped that in her wisdom something unexpected would arise. Je t’aime (I love you), I whispered into Anthi’s ear, kissing it, as I followed her into the heart of the yacht.

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Many thanks to Anthi Psomiadou for her more than supporting role in this fictional story of things of yore and of things present, all of them mostly Greek and pleasant. I still wonder where all this writing is going, especially that there are only a few readers. But then I remember that I am basically writing this story for myself and for Anthi, as well as anyone else who may want to read about what Goddess Athena could have been like had she decided to return to our world.

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