Private Journal, Audio Disk 15, Silver Security Encryption version 2.3 in effect.
Dear Deacon, I can't believe I'm still doing this, after all this time. Can't believe I never deleted these damned audio journal entry's, can't believe that, that you're gone. Really gone. I keep finding myself expecting you to come through a door or window with that same smug, arrogant look on your face to tell me that I'm foolish for crying. Foolish for believing that you could die as easy as that, as easy as any other human. But you aren't coming back this time, are you?
You aren't coming back this time because I killed you, didn't I? I crippled you, forced you back into your humanity; I helped to deceive and betray you into losing your godhood, your vampire powers. Made you like one of us. I traded your life for a few months of sunlight and walks in the sand. Was it worth it? And if it wasn't, do you forgive me, beloved? Will you ever forgive me? I'm not sure I forgive myself. And yet, if I had to do it over...
We had heaven, Deacon. Heaven in your touch on a deserted Spanish beach as you pulled me down to the blanket under a warm late-afternoon sun. Heaven in the morning light coming through the slats in the shades as I brought you breakfast in bed. Heaven in the warmth of your kisses, and the smell of your hair. And for a while I actually dared to dream that we would have our happy-ever-after. In spite of our past, in spite of our business dealings; in spite of your Russian connections and my barely controlled addictions. I dreamed that we - no. I'm not going to torment myself again, not going to dream of what can never be. Not going to dream of a child with your eyes and my hair; a child with your smile. I can't. No more. It kills me that - no. I need to stop this!
***later***
You won't believe how far I've come. I'm actually buying Selene's penthouse. I can't really believe it myself, I keep thinking I'm going to wake up to reality because everything is like a dream. A very dark, horrific and yet somehow humorous dream. She's still alive, and so is Tristan, and everyone else. Only you are gone. You and that hole where my heart used to be. But yes, buying her penthouse, because Daken has taken over the 'Dark' and I just don't have the desire to try and take it back - for now. I need someplace new, someplace where your memory won't follow me everywhere I turn. I won't see you in her kitchen, I won't hear your voice as I stand near her balcony. I won't have to remember you coming through her door because you were never here at all.
I have looked over the blueprints, and I will make a few changes; but I am hoping that I can leave so much behind me, start over, invent myself again. I should be good at it by now, right? I have to start over, I can't just lay in bed dreaming of yesterday. You would be disappointed in me, I know, to see how far I've fallen. Am I putting myself here, under the very gaze of one of your - our - greatest of enemy's so that she can find and kill me easily? Am I truly that suicidal? Or am I here so that she can see that I'm not who I used to be, that I want to be more in the future than I was in the past? Am I wanting her to be my executioner or my salvation? Or am I drinking too fucking much wine tonight and over-thinking as I always do?
This time I have to let you go, Deacon. I don't want to, and I can't yet but I know I'm going to have to. Because this time you won't come through that door, you won't come through my window with your smile and open arms and tell me it will be alright. This time you are really gone, you left me here and I have to keep waking up every day to an empty bed and an empty heart. I'm sorry lover, but it's true. I miss you so much!
And I don't know if I can forgive you for that.
You aren't coming back this time because I killed you, didn't I? I crippled you, forced you back into your humanity; I helped to deceive and betray you into losing your godhood, your vampire powers. Made you like one of us. I traded your life for a few months of sunlight and walks in the sand. Was it worth it? And if it wasn't, do you forgive me, beloved? Will you ever forgive me? I'm not sure I forgive myself. And yet, if I had to do it over...
We had heaven, Deacon. Heaven in your touch on a deserted Spanish beach as you pulled me down to the blanket under a warm late-afternoon sun. Heaven in the morning light coming through the slats in the shades as I brought you breakfast in bed. Heaven in the warmth of your kisses, and the smell of your hair. And for a while I actually dared to dream that we would have our happy-ever-after. In spite of our past, in spite of our business dealings; in spite of your Russian connections and my barely controlled addictions. I dreamed that we - no. I'm not going to torment myself again, not going to dream of what can never be. Not going to dream of a child with your eyes and my hair; a child with your smile. I can't. No more. It kills me that - no. I need to stop this!
***later***
You won't believe how far I've come. I'm actually buying Selene's penthouse. I can't really believe it myself, I keep thinking I'm going to wake up to reality because everything is like a dream. A very dark, horrific and yet somehow humorous dream. She's still alive, and so is Tristan, and everyone else. Only you are gone. You and that hole where my heart used to be. But yes, buying her penthouse, because Daken has taken over the 'Dark' and I just don't have the desire to try and take it back - for now. I need someplace new, someplace where your memory won't follow me everywhere I turn. I won't see you in her kitchen, I won't hear your voice as I stand near her balcony. I won't have to remember you coming through her door because you were never here at all.
I have looked over the blueprints, and I will make a few changes; but I am hoping that I can leave so much behind me, start over, invent myself again. I should be good at it by now, right? I have to start over, I can't just lay in bed dreaming of yesterday. You would be disappointed in me, I know, to see how far I've fallen. Am I putting myself here, under the very gaze of one of your - our - greatest of enemy's so that she can find and kill me easily? Am I truly that suicidal? Or am I here so that she can see that I'm not who I used to be, that I want to be more in the future than I was in the past? Am I wanting her to be my executioner or my salvation? Or am I drinking too fucking much wine tonight and over-thinking as I always do?
This time I have to let you go, Deacon. I don't want to, and I can't yet but I know I'm going to have to. Because this time you won't come through that door, you won't come through my window with your smile and open arms and tell me it will be alright. This time you are really gone, you left me here and I have to keep waking up every day to an empty bed and an empty heart. I'm sorry lover, but it's true. I miss you so much!
And I don't know if I can forgive you for that.