Personal Observations on the Subject
“Then ask!” barked Vincent at me in response to the statements of confusion made in my previous entry.
“I am asking. I am, constantly, asking questions. But why are you upset?” I replied.
Vincent paced the floor to stand by the window, unable to pull aside the curtains so early in the evening. The sun had barely set yet, and we were in the parlour. I had entered intending to ask him a trivial matter and had found myself pulled into this conversation quite abruptly. “Did you read what you wrote?”
“I am assuming that you did not find my writings full of grammatical errors or spelling mistakes,” I replied pointedly, “Yes, I did, as I always do.”
“You make it sound as if …” He turned around to look at me. “As if I have forced all this upon you. As if I persuaded you to live this way instead of joining a clan.”
I blinked. “No. I made no such statement. I made it quite clear that I sympathised with your ways and still do. I chose to live with you, Vincent. And you know it.”
He nodded. “Good … I know, of course … But your description, the blurred lines ...”
“But it is true. How would you expect me to react? You told me you live alone for a reason. You set an example to me, showing me your own way. And I have always seen the sense of it.”
“However?” he insisted.
“Lyon as well. He is every bit as independent as - or rather even more than, I expect - you are,” I continued. “I have been taught by both of you that vampire clans are not something to strive for being a part of. And while none of you are, Lyon at least seems to have very tight bonds to Mathew, and you both participate in quite a lot of social events these days.”
“What Lyon does is his own business,” Vincent said. “And on a personal level, I quite like Mathew. It's a little like … having a friend who supports a political party or a religion that you abhor. You can still be friends. As long as Mathew does not try to pressure me into joining a clan, I have no quarrel with him. Just as I would not dream of trying to persuade him to leave his group.” He walked back to me and ran a hand down my cheek. “Does that clear it up a little for you?”
His tone was a little too condescending for me not to react to. “A little yes. Though the ways of vampires are too complicated for me to understand, perhaps.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“And I meant not that you have forced me into anything.”
“Touché.” He grinned and sat down on a couch, gesturing for me to do the same.
“Well,” I continued, placing myself next to him, “according to Mathew, I should begin to consider all these things more thoroughly. Since I am … since he, too, thinks that I ...”
“That you are the One,” Vincent finished for me. “And he does have a point. I rather don't think you'll find many attractive things about clans, but I suppose knowing how things work would not harm you in your position. Knowing a little about politics does not mean you have to actively participate. But even I do know what it is that I am not part of.”
“I wonder, though, if I have a say in the matter. I am just me. I realise that I am different from the rest of you, as I have realised from the day I met you. But to myself that uniqueness, if you will, means nothing else. It is just that. I am not important because I am different. I am merely different because I am different,” I explained, hoping that he understood.
“Has it occurred to you that to those people, you are not important because you are different? You might be the same if you were a normal vampire.” He smiled, a little sadly.
“So in other words, they have made up their minds?” I paused. “Vincent … Is it … going to my head?”
He laughed, “What?”
“You, and practically everyone else, tell me I am special. Am I getting, or am I in danger of getting, full of myself?” I have been considering this for a while. Whenever the subject comes up, I get uncomfortable. I am afraid of thinking myself more important than others, simply because I am told that I am, and I am afraid of disappointing them by not being what they expect. I never asked to be treated in a special way, yet what I am and how I act contradict any idea of ordinariness. I rather want to do my best, do something good, but I strive not for any role of leadership. I find myself utterly confused and tried to convey these feelings to Vincent.
“Do you want the truth?” he asked. “You might not like it entirely.”
I answered him in the affirmative.
Vincent sighed and thought for a moment. “You are not getting too full of yourself, but you are … very full of not getting too full of yourself. Whenever it is discussed, you tell us that you don't view yourself as something special, that you just try to fit in, that you hope you don't disappoint anyone, that you only want to do the right thing. You don't waste any opportunity to make sure that we all know that the role of being something extraordinary was forced upon you. And it does … well, I could imagine that it makes some people feel that it's a terrible thing that they're doing to you. And maybe it is. I wouldn't want to be considered as important as they seem to consider you. I know it's a pressure on you, but I don't think you have to worry - they know it too. So if you are just telling us that you don't think you're special because you think others may think that you do consider yourself better than others, I really don't think you have to worry about it. If you do it in order to shut people up, then tell them instead that you are fed up with it and ask them not to bother you with telling you how incredible you are.”
I like to think that I consider things thoroughly. Yet, I sat thinking a while after Vincent had finished his speech. I have not meant to complain. I have, perhaps, meant to warn others that I do not feel particularly important and thus may not be whom they are looking for. Coming to terms with what Kaoru and others have told me that I am has not been easy, and I think not that I am all there yet. I do not know if I will ever be. The possibility that they have introduced to me is frightening. I am not just scared of failing them. I am not just scared of getting too full of myself. I am also scared because I do not know what price there is to pay. I am scared because being someone important is not likely a synonym of a quiet existence with few important decisions to make an a minimal amount of danger and because I fear, not only for my own safety, but for the safety of those who are close to me.
He waited until I had explained it to the best of my abilities, then pulled me close when I was silent again. “To me, Grae, you are not 'the One'. You are … well, you are my one. You are special to me, but it is on a strictly personal level. I don't know if you're going to save the world or … well, whatever it is that they all expect of you. I just want you with me, and I want to try to make you feel happy and safe. And I know I can't always do that and not by myself, but I do try.”
I smiled and closed my eyes for a moment. Being there, despite the heaviness of the subject we were debating, I did feel safe. I did feel happy, and I felt relieved to have had this conversation with him. I have been scared to hurt him, and others, with my honesty. “Thank you, Vincent,” I murmured.
“This conversation is going into your public writings more or less as it is, isn't it?” he asked.
“I think so, yes. Why?” I looked at him, puzzled.
A smirk formed on his lips. He leaned forward and whispered something into my ear.
“Vincent, please,” I sighed. “More or less, I said. I do reserve the right to edit.”
His smirk grew even wider.
“I am asking. I am, constantly, asking questions. But why are you upset?” I replied.
Vincent paced the floor to stand by the window, unable to pull aside the curtains so early in the evening. The sun had barely set yet, and we were in the parlour. I had entered intending to ask him a trivial matter and had found myself pulled into this conversation quite abruptly. “Did you read what you wrote?”
“I am assuming that you did not find my writings full of grammatical errors or spelling mistakes,” I replied pointedly, “Yes, I did, as I always do.”
“You make it sound as if …” He turned around to look at me. “As if I have forced all this upon you. As if I persuaded you to live this way instead of joining a clan.”
I blinked. “No. I made no such statement. I made it quite clear that I sympathised with your ways and still do. I chose to live with you, Vincent. And you know it.”
He nodded. “Good … I know, of course … But your description, the blurred lines ...”
“But it is true. How would you expect me to react? You told me you live alone for a reason. You set an example to me, showing me your own way. And I have always seen the sense of it.”
“However?” he insisted.
“Lyon as well. He is every bit as independent as - or rather even more than, I expect - you are,” I continued. “I have been taught by both of you that vampire clans are not something to strive for being a part of. And while none of you are, Lyon at least seems to have very tight bonds to Mathew, and you both participate in quite a lot of social events these days.”
“What Lyon does is his own business,” Vincent said. “And on a personal level, I quite like Mathew. It's a little like … having a friend who supports a political party or a religion that you abhor. You can still be friends. As long as Mathew does not try to pressure me into joining a clan, I have no quarrel with him. Just as I would not dream of trying to persuade him to leave his group.” He walked back to me and ran a hand down my cheek. “Does that clear it up a little for you?”
His tone was a little too condescending for me not to react to. “A little yes. Though the ways of vampires are too complicated for me to understand, perhaps.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“And I meant not that you have forced me into anything.”
“Touché.” He grinned and sat down on a couch, gesturing for me to do the same.
“Well,” I continued, placing myself next to him, “according to Mathew, I should begin to consider all these things more thoroughly. Since I am … since he, too, thinks that I ...”
“That you are the One,” Vincent finished for me. “And he does have a point. I rather don't think you'll find many attractive things about clans, but I suppose knowing how things work would not harm you in your position. Knowing a little about politics does not mean you have to actively participate. But even I do know what it is that I am not part of.”
“I wonder, though, if I have a say in the matter. I am just me. I realise that I am different from the rest of you, as I have realised from the day I met you. But to myself that uniqueness, if you will, means nothing else. It is just that. I am not important because I am different. I am merely different because I am different,” I explained, hoping that he understood.
“Has it occurred to you that to those people, you are not important because you are different? You might be the same if you were a normal vampire.” He smiled, a little sadly.
“So in other words, they have made up their minds?” I paused. “Vincent … Is it … going to my head?”
He laughed, “What?”
“You, and practically everyone else, tell me I am special. Am I getting, or am I in danger of getting, full of myself?” I have been considering this for a while. Whenever the subject comes up, I get uncomfortable. I am afraid of thinking myself more important than others, simply because I am told that I am, and I am afraid of disappointing them by not being what they expect. I never asked to be treated in a special way, yet what I am and how I act contradict any idea of ordinariness. I rather want to do my best, do something good, but I strive not for any role of leadership. I find myself utterly confused and tried to convey these feelings to Vincent.
“Do you want the truth?” he asked. “You might not like it entirely.”
I answered him in the affirmative.
Vincent sighed and thought for a moment. “You are not getting too full of yourself, but you are … very full of not getting too full of yourself. Whenever it is discussed, you tell us that you don't view yourself as something special, that you just try to fit in, that you hope you don't disappoint anyone, that you only want to do the right thing. You don't waste any opportunity to make sure that we all know that the role of being something extraordinary was forced upon you. And it does … well, I could imagine that it makes some people feel that it's a terrible thing that they're doing to you. And maybe it is. I wouldn't want to be considered as important as they seem to consider you. I know it's a pressure on you, but I don't think you have to worry - they know it too. So if you are just telling us that you don't think you're special because you think others may think that you do consider yourself better than others, I really don't think you have to worry about it. If you do it in order to shut people up, then tell them instead that you are fed up with it and ask them not to bother you with telling you how incredible you are.”
I like to think that I consider things thoroughly. Yet, I sat thinking a while after Vincent had finished his speech. I have not meant to complain. I have, perhaps, meant to warn others that I do not feel particularly important and thus may not be whom they are looking for. Coming to terms with what Kaoru and others have told me that I am has not been easy, and I think not that I am all there yet. I do not know if I will ever be. The possibility that they have introduced to me is frightening. I am not just scared of failing them. I am not just scared of getting too full of myself. I am also scared because I do not know what price there is to pay. I am scared because being someone important is not likely a synonym of a quiet existence with few important decisions to make an a minimal amount of danger and because I fear, not only for my own safety, but for the safety of those who are close to me.
He waited until I had explained it to the best of my abilities, then pulled me close when I was silent again. “To me, Grae, you are not 'the One'. You are … well, you are my one. You are special to me, but it is on a strictly personal level. I don't know if you're going to save the world or … well, whatever it is that they all expect of you. I just want you with me, and I want to try to make you feel happy and safe. And I know I can't always do that and not by myself, but I do try.”
I smiled and closed my eyes for a moment. Being there, despite the heaviness of the subject we were debating, I did feel safe. I did feel happy, and I felt relieved to have had this conversation with him. I have been scared to hurt him, and others, with my honesty. “Thank you, Vincent,” I murmured.
“This conversation is going into your public writings more or less as it is, isn't it?” he asked.
“I think so, yes. Why?” I looked at him, puzzled.
A smirk formed on his lips. He leaned forward and whispered something into my ear.
“Vincent, please,” I sighed. “More or less, I said. I do reserve the right to edit.”
His smirk grew even wider.