“Pulvis et umbra sumus. It’s a line from Horace. ‘We are dust and shadows’. Appropriate, don’t you think?” Will said. “It’s not a long life, killing demons; one tends to die young, and then they burn your body – dust to dust, in the literal sense. And then we vanish into the shadows of history, nary a mark on the page of a mundane book to remind the world that once we existed at all.”

I remember reading this book and this very quote. I always have loved Will, not because he seem to be the definition of the word ‘bad angel’ with his black hair and blue eyes which according to Magnus, ‘looked like night sky in hell’ but because out of the many characters from the series created by Cassie Clare, I’ve always felt this connection with Will.

William-sarcastic-morally deficient-and-I-don’t-care-about-the-world-Herondale

You know that feeling when you meet this fictional character and suddenly you feel like a mirror is placed in front of you and everything they do seems like a replay of everything you’ve done up until that moment. And every pain of theirs seem to clench your heart from the utter hurt and desperation then at that exact moment, you wish to be in their world, hug them and tell them, “It’s okay. It’s okay…You are gonna be okay.”

I was there. I’ve done that. I’m still doing that.

And it’s okay.

I am okay.

And you’re going to be, too. So don’t just tell me that we are dust and shadows, that after all these struggles, we become just a memory to a few and nothing but carved letters painted with cheap ink in graveyards. You are more than that. You and I are.

At least that’s what I tell myself as everyday I try to fight these demons inside my head which keep telling me to be perfect, to be successful and to prove that I am someone greater than what I am today, as I try to hold back the tears which often times threaten to fall when my heart can’t handle the sadness of frequently being alone with my thoughts even with the company of my friends and as I try to put a fucking poker face when all I wanted was to be happy but I can’t because I’ve been happy once and life slapped me with the reality that in the end, this is not a story book where ‘happily-ever-after’ does exist.

And so when finally, I have finished the book series and saw you, my dear Will, finally forgiving yourself and finally accepting the love you truly deserve, I feel at peace. I feel like maybe there is really hope and you may be just a character in a novel, but as I have closed your story, I felt happiness for you.

At least in that way one of us had found happiness.

At least, you did.