A livejournal blog....

Dear Journal,

My apartment is awesome. I've moved in, and I went to read my old blog. My memory is fuzzy and confused and I sometimes remember things that aren't real. It's like a daydream. Flashes here and there. A scent or a sound. A piece of artwork. I think I'm going insane. I can't let anyone else know. And putting it here, well it's the only place that it is safe to.

I have these dreams at night, real dreams. I'm looking for something or someone, I think a some him. But I can't find him. I know he's there, he's outside of the room I'm trapped in and there is no way out, but sometimes something opens and a little piece of me gets out. And then in other dreams I have these erotic fantasies of my freshman literature teacher. I know most of the girls had dreams about him, we used to gossip about him after class, over a late night desert at the pub before going back to the apartment. Those dreams are the ones that are so real. His hands are on me, he's exploring me, touching me, arousing me. And then I wake up. Drenched in sweat, tangled with my sheets, as if I had been fighting them.

Maybe all I need is to get laid.

Love, me.

Dear Journal,

I went out last night and met someone named Kyle. What I guess was his ex showed up and saved the night. My card was overdrawn again, yeah I know stupid me for not checking. She's apparently loaded and absolutely gorgeous. I love the Club and they have fantastic food. And drinks.

Something about her stirred my memories and I was nervous and scared but I think I'm getting used to these memories. I seem to remember seeing a therapist in DC, I think she did something to make them less intense. I wish I remember her name.

I think about him a lot too. Part of me longs for him. Yeah I know, I need to get laid, but there isn't anyone I'm interested in. I keep comparing them to him. Last night I was laying in bed and I could hear his voice whispering in my ear, and almost feel his arms around me, holding me close to him. I know the poem too, though I had to look it up this morning in my old textbook. Yeah, I know, he'd be disappointed that I had to... But it was 'She walks in Beauty' by Lord Byron.

He always did find me beautiful. I'm not sure that I'm worthy of being called that. Lunch is almost over and I need to get back to work.

Love, Me.

Dear Journal,

I have a girl friend! No, not that kind of 'girlfriend' but her name is Delilah and she's a stripper and like everyone else in this crazy town she too is loaded. I wonder what it must be like to have everything you ever wanted just there for you and never having to worry about money? I guess I won't ever know. And maybe there is something satisfying in knowing that the fabulous blue heels you got from the boutique came from your own blood and sweat and tears.

I might ask her to teach me a little bit about how to strip. I'd like to know. For when I get laid again. Hey don't laugh it COULD happen. Thing is though I don't really want it TO happen. I don't want to be with anyone I guess. It's a weird feeling, like being obsessed but I don't know about what, because it certainly wasn't my professor. I'm not a student anymore, I could go back to DC, but... I don't have the money or the vacation time and I love my job. Like LOVE LOVE LOVE my job. Inventory can be fun, especially when we get deep in the vault and find all sorts of neat things. Sometimes at night I can hear myelf explaining to him in excited detail the things I'm learning, but its not him and god those dreams have to stop. I get paid on friday, maybe I can buy a guy for a few hours. Maybe it'll get him out of my head, and thoughts.

Sometimes in the distance I can see him. But we didn't DO anything. He was my teacher, we couldn't have done anything. It's just my overactive imagination and way, way too many romance novels.

Sometimes I think I'm going crazy. But in a good way. Is that what love is? An obsessive craziness? Maybe I should email him. He'd think I was crazy...

Love, Me.

Dear Journal,

So. I got stuck working on the new show, and then I made the mistake of getting completely hammered and stumbled into some people and I'm pretty sure I threw up on their shoes (Yeah, I know. What a dork) and I think they put me into a cab and I think the cabbie helped me in. And I think he might have had sex with me. There was a condom wrapper on the floor. I don't even know who the cabbie was, but I do remember that his back didn't feel right to me. What a weird thing to notice?

A couple days later someone said that the lady in charge of the museum had died. I don't know if that is true, or not, but its going around the Arch like wildfire and everyone is pretty scared. Someone said that there are going to be layoffs and the museum closed, but I can't see how that will happen. All museums have a board of directors to handle emergencies like that. No one knows if any of it is true though, or who will take over, or what is going on.

I almost wrote a letter to him. I paused over Ti's send button and couldn't do it. Something inside me didn't want to tell him my obsession. I guess that I don't want to be rejected. A therapist would say that I am making all this up in order to create the love I've never had, not as a child or as a student, or now. It's hard to make friends, and I don't want to lean too hard on Delilah because she might freak and go away. She's interested in some guy who comes to watch her. I wonder if she realizes how obsessed she is with him? At least her guy is real. She has a chance. Not like me, not like crazy old me who has to INVENT a guy.

Dear crazy gods. Maybe my Mother did do drugs like one of the 'Aunts' who took care of me claimed. And maybe that is why I'm going bizarro nuts over a fantasy.

Maybe I should see a doctor or something?

Love, Me.

Dear Journal,

I did it. I wrote him. I'm crazy for doing so. But I did it.

I can't help thinking about him. I dreamt about our first time. I locked the door and leaned against it and kissed him. I relived it, every moment of it. At least I think I did. It was like I was there again, kneeling before him and the look of shock on his face.

The way he said that I didn't have to do it for a grade... The way he hugged me. When he held me as I slept after we did it. It was...very very nice.

I woke up panting from it, shaking with desire. And that was why I wrote him today.

Love,

Me.

Dear Journal,

Scott came, the dreams were real and he unlocked all of the memories that he had taken from me. They were all real, he loved me. Loves me. He said he let me leave because I needed to live my life. I asked him to never let me make that mistake again and he said he wouldn't, that now that he was back that everything was going to be all right. He took me out, then he made love to me. Over and over and over again. He cooked for me, and he's going to see about getting us a house. And he admitted something to me. He's a vampire. No, seriously he is. He fed from me, for the first time. It's like in the poem ' The stars aligned with her loveliness' except..it was him and it was amazing. I then proceeded to beat him with a pillow for not doing this sooner. He said that he had been afraid of losing me when I discovered that he was a monster. A monster? Monsters don't make those sorts of feelings in a woman. It was amazing, I keep reaching up to touch the spot, to run my nails over it. I think the spot is really really sensitive. I can barely see it, but I know it's there.

He keeps cooking from me and he told me what will happen if he continues to feed from me. A bond will develop between us. I'm all for that, after all, he's never going to leave me again, so it isn't as if anything bad can happen from this hypothetical bond. I want to be with him, I want to be his. Forever. He thinks I'll change my mind but I won't. Not as long as he's with me.

He keeps doing and saying things to arouse me. He said that he wants me to eat well, so he cooks for me. He wants to pick out my clothing, which is kinda hot, but he keeps picking out these short short outfits. And tomorrow he wants to have a serious talk with me. About what? With him around it can't really be that serious, right?

Love,
Me.

(catching this up to present!)

Dear Journal,

Tonight Scott talked about things seriously with me. He explained what will happen if I break the vow of secrecy that he made me swear. I can't tell anyone about what he is, or that this city is the hellmouth from Buffy. There are real monsters here. He explained about the Clans, and how they were made and why there are different ones. He explained about the wolves in a more generalized manner. He'd never met one, he just knew that they existed and are a part of this city as well. He told me about how the one is very old fashioned and mostly nobility, and that the newest one is dangerous and that if I saw a particular sign or heard their name to get away really fast. He was pretty prejudiced against them but I'm not really sure why. He let me play a game where I got to ask him questions every time I made him orgasm. That was a fun game and I'm glad that we did.

Scott's going to take me out tonight to a place that is opening up that is a huge games center with rides and games and restaurants and all sorts of entertainment. He promised me that I could DDR with him, which I think would be a lot of fun as we hadn't done that in a while.

Tonight was the last night that made our bond formal. Scott went to his Clan holdings and registered me formally on their rolls as his. He said that this was so that no one could take me away from him, something that he seems to worry about quite a bit. He doesn't seem to want to collar me but I think that is all right. It bothers me, but it will come in time. To me that means that I am his, forever but he doesn't seem to agree. I've noticed already that it's made me not want to disagree with him. I temper my opinions and desires for his. It should scare me, after all every Dear Abby advice column that I've read says that if a guy tries to take over your life you should very quickly turn and run away. Thing is, I don't want to run away. I just got him back, I can't imagine being apart from him.

Love,

Me.

Dear Journal,

So Scott bought me a house. It's beautiful and old fashioned and it has some of the best natural light that I've ever seen in a house, with this large sunroom that Scott says that I can have as a studio. There is this wall there that is all glass and the backyard is wild and will need so much work. There is a front porch that is screened in with a porch swing and in the back yard there is a swing attached to a tree. Scott is going to have the property fenced and the trees give us privacy. He's made a promise to make love to me in every room of the house. And he has ideas.

He doesn't want me to give up my work at the Museum, but I think I'm going to cut my hours back to part time. We don't need the money and with all the workman that are going to be coming to the house to replace windows and roofs and alter the basement for Scott, the fence and the delivery men.... it's going to be a lot of work. One of the things that I liked about my former apartment was that it had no windows, and I'm finding that one of the things that I'm really liking about the house is that it has lots of windows.

Seriously though, I would live in a crypt if I meant I could live with Scott. He said we could talk about the things that he wanted to change tomorrow, he has orders I think and they make me happy. He said he won't feed from me very often. He said that he's taught himself how not to feed from people and to feed only a little bit. I find that a bit silly but it is what it is, and it feels so good when he does that it's really hard to think that this is something that Scott doesn't want to do. But he doesn't say no very often, although at times it's just very short, more to let me feel than for his hunger. It's something I'm finding that I am becoming quite addicted to.

Love,

Me.

Dear Journal,

Scott and I had a fight tonight. He doesn't like the idea of turning me. I want it, I want to be with him forever, but everytime we disagree it feels like something inside of me is very wrong and it leaves me scared and uncomfortable. I want to fight the feelings but I don't, I just take it and eventually I give in. He told me to think of the reasons that I wanted it. Well, there are a lot. I want to be with him forever, but he says that isn't good enough. He tells me that I am in love with the sun, and when I lose it I'll regret my decision and I'll hate him for doing it to me. How can he not understand that I would do anything, anything to be with him? That losing the sun is a small price to pay to be his for all of eternity.

Maybe he doesn't want me forever. Sometimes I see him watching me speculatively when he thinks I'm not looking. One of his orders was to hide sketchbooks around the house, to sketch whenever I'm not doing anything.

And what I sketch the most is my handsome Scott. Of course he's what I sketch the most. He's my entire world. He made me omelets today, and he told me how he learned how to cook. It's kind of weird to think of vampires in a war. But I guess they are like any other person, and some of them can be warriors too. It actually does make some sense. Being around Scott except when we arguing is sheer bliss. When we argue, when I'm scared, it's just something that I have to endure. I tried to explain to him how much it hurts to disagree with him, and how confused it leaves me. I don't think that he truly understands, but maybe he will in time.

He's making dinner for me tonight, something with sausages and pasta and cheese. I can't wait.

Love,

Me.

Dear Journal,

Another day another fight. This time over my bike. I had been in an accident and wrecked it, and he was scared for me. I was lucky that I didn't break anything. He held me and carried me home from the ER and then gave me some of his blood. He told me he didn't want me riding the bike anymore, not that I could after wrecking it, and I probably wouldn't've wrecked it if I had the money to keep it upkept and repaired. And Scott had a really good point and I'd countered with, Well if you'd turn me you wouldn't have had to worry. Yeah, he didn't like that so... He left me in the bed, tied me to it actually and left me there as his blood worked through me. Sure it helped heal me, but it left me hot and needy and he wouldn't touch me. He just sat in a chair and watched me, even when I begged, pleaded to be touched by him.

It was also the first time he told me that he wasn't sure if we were going to work out. He left me there most of the night and what I heard him say was that he didn't want me. How could I blame him? I couldn't. Not at all. I just wasn't good enough for him. I never have been, maybe that's why he let me go in the first place? Maybe. I guess I just don't know. It's left me very confused. Eventually near dawn his blood wore off and he came to release me, hold me and tell me that everything would be ok. But he did not tell me that he loved me.

Love,

Me.

Dear Journal,

I came home today and he was gone. There was a folder left on the table, with the deeds to the house, the new bike, my bug... He thought of everything, from a trust fund and escrow for the bills to a grocery delivery service and a once a week maid.

The letter said he had to go, that he had Clan business that he needed to do, that the bond would break between us soon enough, and to not try and contact him. Nowhere in the letter did he say that he loved me. But he kept his promise to see me taken care of.

The key to my collar was in there, and it caused m to break down. I spent several hours hiding underneath the counter, sobbing hysterically. Now I feel numb, broken and so alone. I tried to contact him, but my emails were bounced, and his cell was disconnected. I knew he was alive, but that is it. No sense of him. I realized it had been over ten days since he fed from me and several weeks since he gave me his blood. Several weeks. He kept saying that he wasn't hungry, then would push me away. He insisted that I needed to work more at the Musuem, that I needed to live my life for me. Maybe that's why he left, because I existed for him.

I think it broke me. I can't go to work tomorrow. Maybe not ever again. All I want to do is run, run away, far away, and keep running and never stop. When I was finally able to stand, I did that. Went running. I ran until I was exhausted, then caught a cab home. Had to go in and get the cab fair. The guy told me I looked like hell. amazing as I feel that way too.

Maybe Scott will come back. He's usually kept his word. So I know deep down that he won't be coming back. That I'm alone, likely forever. He told me not to go to his clan, not that I know where they would be. Everything that was him is gone. How he managed this in 6 short hours... I guess that he planned his exodus well. How did I not know? Because you were oblivious, Miya, absolutely utterly oblivious.

Love,

Me.