I know I shouldn’t care.
But I do.
And that upsets me. Because it was I after all who left him. I left him. I didn’t want to be with him anymore. Couldn’t be with him anymore.
He wasn’t meant for me. I wasn’t meant for him. But I care.
He’s so different than I am.
He’s alive. I’m not. I’m here, but I don’t live. I exist. He’s here and he’s alive. I could always see it in his eyes. That sparkle, that endless smile that I could see when he looked at me. How could I give him anything he needed? How can someone who’s dead give anything to his lover who’s alive. Who has a heartbeat. A heartbeat that I used to listen to for hours as he slept in my arms.
Seeing his naked chest rise and fall as he silently slipped into his dreams was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. And yet it scared me. Nothing scares me, I’ve seen it all in my unlife, but his living body did. It scared me because I knew that I could never be everything that he needed. I’ve known it from the moment I first kissed him. Tasted those sweet lips. I always told myself that I didn’t care. I’m evil, remember. But I was lying. Lying to myself. I care.
Dreams and being haunted
He still haunts me in my dreams. I dream about him every night. Dream about us together. Our hours of lovemaking, our hours of talking to each other. I’m torturing myself, but I deserve it. Because I gave him hope. I gave him the idea that I could be someone that I’m not. And I hurt him. Bad. And I shouldn’t care. But I do.
I saw him today. It has been six months since I left him. Since I told him that I didn’t want to be with him anymore. Told him that it was over. That he should go on without me. He didn’t want to. He begged me not to go. But I had to. For him. For me.
I saw him today with someone else. Someone new. He didn’t see me, but I saw him. He looked happy. With that person. A girl. A nice looking girl that was holding his hand. And he smiled at her. I felt my heart break when I saw that smile, because once that smile was only given to me. Once I was the one he smiled at like that. But I’m not anymore. Because I left him, hurt him. I know it’s better this way. I’m not the one for him. I’m dead, evil and a cold-blooded killer. And I don’t want to, but I care.
Fear & afraid
It was my fear, my insecurity that killed what we had. I was afraid. Afraid that I couldn’t love him the way he deserves to be loved. Afraid that I would love him the way he deserves to be loved. And that it would hurt me. I was afraid of getting hurt, so I did what I thought was best. Hurt him before he could hurt me. I’m a fool. A bloody idiot. I made a mistake. And it’s too late to do anything about it. I lost him.
And it’s all my fault.
I pushed him away. I didn’t open up to him. Afraid to show my true feelings and get hurt. I’ve been hurt in the past and somehow my mind won’t let that happen again. Even if that means that I have to push away the one good thing that has happened to me in over a century. The one good thing that could make me a man again. Is it really better to stay the soulless demon and hide in my crypt and be sure that no one will hurt me? I’m afraid to take a chance – to care. I wish I didn’t, but I care.