Rose-Tinted Lens: On Romantic Idolatry
My dear Scourgesap,
I am delighted to hear that your man has found an acquaintance in the girl he occasionally passes in his daily routines. Listen carefully! He now navigates a romantic precipice that may bring him stumbling and crashing down to us, but will lead him to the Enemy’s clutches should you fail to intervene.
Thankfully, he is already inclined toward our promptings more than most, being quite attuned to emotion and connection. You know as well as I that our greatest strengths lie in corrupting that which the Enemy would draw him to; while he may be susceptible to picking up more of the Enemy’s inane messages of “care”, it also leaves him wide open to the distraction of the worldly. In the latter case, you could hardly ask for a better subject—is it true that he is so inclined toward romance that you need only nudge his mind to send him spiraling into fantasies and poetry? This, young one, is your greatest opportunity to snag him.
Focus your efforts on his perception of beauty in her. Granted, beauty in and of itself is not to our benefit—its true, complete form makes men falter in their descent to us, thinking on matters beyond themselves and appreciating the world around them, and left alone, it will curate in him a rather horrid sense of tranquility through which we cannot reach—yet it is still of great use. Should you fix his focus instead on the vague, exaggerated concept of beauty he observes in the girl, you will have ample opportunity to mix his attunement with our corruption. Since he himself believes the first sort beauty to be of immense value, the admiration of anything charming or attractive can be as natural and permissible as breathing. Moreover, the further he indulges in this admiration, the more enthralled he becomes, and, should the thought of questioning these feelings arise, the less reason to continue he needs. Let this give rise to his poetic mind, inflating her silhouette beyond who she truly is. The slightest of smiles, the mere shift of her glance, even a strand of hair brushed aside can all become, in his eyes, works of art. With your guidance, these innocuous acts may begin as notebook sketches, grow to amateur portraiture, and, with just the right efforts, rival the likes of Michelangelo or Van Gogh themselves. A simple “Hello” in such a state of admiration can be enough to send him deep into labyrinths of daydreams and scenarios, unresponsive to anything around him—much less the voice of the Enemy.
Thus far I have only touched on the physical aspect of his infatuation. Yes, young one, there is still more you wield against the Enemy, for the girl’s character can be put under scrutiny to even greater effect. His attunement centers on emotion, which, paired with his love of introspection, leaves him constantly searching for someone who understands the “dreadfully chasmic” proportions of his heart—for such a quiet little insect, he really is wonderfully dramatic, isn’t he? With this inclination in mind, all you must do is whisper to him that this girl, this one, and none other, is who he has been incessantly searching for. If you are successful, the slightest of her qualities he may resonate with will form a haze of rose-colored clouds around him, blinding him to reality. Every “good” thing he observes (yes, even her wretched virtues) will be placed on a pedestal for him to gaze upon at his convenience. Her faults, meanwhile, are hidden in the fog, still visible if he tilts his head and squints just right—but then they are made of such faint, blurry stuff that they are hardly worth worrying about.
Most of this process he does quite well on his own; your task, instead, is to ensure he does not take in too much. Captivating as his pedestal is, enough detail surrounding it will become too much to ignore, and he will find himself with a real, authentic human in place of the divinity he had made her out to be. The less he knows, the more mystery she possesses, and with his lovestruck optimism, he will subconsciously believe each fog-veiled attribute to be of the sort he wishes to see. Now, dissuading him from any and all interaction with her is foolhardy, of course—he wishes to be close to her by nature, and if isolated from his source, the feelings that we are after will eventually dissipate. (It is also worth mentioning that the melancholy afflicted by her distance, or even her rejection, is of little use—it is a brief, fickle pain, one as substantial as were his foundations for the romance in the first place.) Drive him too close, however, and he may alarm her with the intensity of his infatuation, or worse, form a genuine relationship through which he might regain his natural sight. The key, then, is to find a balance between distance and closeness—our meal roasting above a flame. Let him lie near enough to feel the warming touch of abstracted desire, but distanced enough to remain unaware of his burning. He must be blind to her genuine identity, such that the brightness of infatuation might distract him from the Enemy’s light.
No member of our ranks is able to keep his patient in such a state forever, no matter their skill or their patient’s inclination. One can, however, exploit the patient’s romanticism to draw them further and further from reason, even in times when no girl is present in his mind. To this end, drive him away from rational thought as best you can. As long as his mind resides in that illusory allure of what has been or what could be, he is yours, but should he attempt to anchor himself in reality, you will find him slipping away. Furthermore, if he is inclined to consider his bond with the Enemy—how his feelings for this girl may detract from his attention to maintaining his and the Enemy’s relationship—you will find yourself bitten by your own double-edged sword; in that line of thought, for reasons our scientists simply cannot uncover, he will find a connection far more obscenely contenting than humans could ever or were ever meant to experience. Avoid this at all costs, and keep me updated. I hope to hear of his beautifully bemoaned melodrama within the week!
Ever famished for your reply,
Irkslob