Sleeping with the Enemy

I've been reading a book lately with a character whose storyline has really been turning my mental wheels. She's fairly complex, and I really resonate with her.

As a young woman, her home country is attacked by an evil tyrant. When he wins the war against her people, he savagely destroys its cities, even obliterating the memory of its name and history from the minds of all but those born in it. Women and children are brutally killed in his thirst for vengeance until few survivors are left, most of whom are refugees who try to make a life for themselves in neighboring kingdoms. In a short amount of time, this character loses her father in battle and then her mother to mental illness. One of the few survivors, she vows to avenge her kingdom by entering the tyrant's harem, gaining his trust, and then killing him. But something unexpected happens. As a member of his harem, she becomes addicted to the pampered life he provides her and the pleasures of his bed. Before she knows it, twelve years have passed during which she's become one of his most favored courtesans, and during which some part of her has learned to love the evil creature who destroyed her homeland, ravaged the innocent families that once lived there, and destroyed the memories of all that it once was. She hates him, but she loves him. She knows what he is and despises him, but she can't break herself free from her sexual need for him. She even goes so far as to save the life of the man she once vowed to destroy.

Like I said, the complexity of the character really has me thinking. I think she's far truer to most of us than we want to admit. She knows who her enemy is. She's seen the havoc he's wreaked among her people. She's tasted the bitterness of his cruelty in the loss of her own family. But she can't keep herself from loving the pleasure he brings her. It's like the overweight woman and her sweets. She hates what they're doing to her health. She hates what they do to her appearance. She's seen the havoc they've wreaked in her self-esteem. She knows very personally the tears she's cried over what they've done to her. She hates them. Yet she loves them. She craves the pleasure they bring her. She wants to stop eating them, but she can't. She's sleeping with the enemy.

I hate the fact that we humans are like this. I hate the fact that I'm like this. I hate the fact that I can know what my enemy (the devil) has done to destroy the people God loves and still be unable to stop myself from biting into his poisoned fruit. I hate the fact that I can look at it and know it's poisonous and still find my hand reaching for it and my mouth aching to take a bite. I hate the fact that, like the character in this novel, I know my destiny is to restore what that enemy has destroyed in my life and the lives of all God's children, but instead of doing what I was meant to do, I'm enjoying the comforts of his harem and the poisoned pleasures he offers. I hate that I too am sleeping with the enemy.