It's been a distant dream since I last wrote. I've been wanting to get back into the swing of things for a while now, but with constant changes in my life, it has been put on hold…until now. I've watched the series of True Blood for a while and I've always thought that Eric was a very complex character that fights with a lot of things. Yes, he fought for Sookie, Bill, and Pam.

Now that Sookie not only left Eric, but also Bill, Eric must now dwell on his emotions he tries to fight as he fights now for the humanity of the world.

I got this idea while watching the last episode of Season 5 where he holds Sookie as Bill succumbed to Lillith's blood before he awakens as the uber-Bill. What I saw in his eyes was not only the loss of Bill but the hurt and sorrow he felt for Sookie. Not only did she lose someone she loved, they were there, holding together at one degree where they shared something. It was a rekindling yet a loss. This is just his feelings that have grown and faded away as the series progresses.

Eric:

In pieces, my heart laid in the rubble of my love's demise. As in turn I walk away as well, turning my face away from failure. I've never failed before. Why must it hurt this way? As always I've been victorious, both in life and after, I ache to see her face, staring at me. Those brown orbs that which my soul shined, now is a shattered shell, again.

Again? I thought that with eternal life, I would see the so called "brighter things of life". Godric told me of vast empires and countless women, men and children that I would claim as my own as their life is sucked from their necks. Without her, it's nothing more than a facade that I elect upon myself to keep in the shadows. Is that where I am really damned?

That impurity named Russell said that he would have the sun. I had the sun; and it was in her. Her warmth as I laid next to her in the vast cold darkness of night. It didn't seem so cold, now it's an abyss of mass turmoil; hiding in this bordello of lost souls, looking for one night of "fun and excitement."

I grow weary of this world and with myself.

My sun, why have you gone? I yearned for you after my rebirth; and yet as everything in my life—no, my existence, I'm bound to walk in this world as an empty being, only here to suffice my survival; preying on the stupid, incoherent drones that walk among both day and night. Petty humans; I feel so compelled to end them yet join them again.

The sun, how I loathe and desire you. At once I could walk with you and nothing seemed to matter. No creature could stand up against me. I would overcome the up most hated creature, be imaginary, spiritual or real and walk with my head held high. Now I barely look up to acknowledge a scream or proposition. Pam considers me mad and as she puts it "a fucking pussy." But has she really lost her sense of humanity? Does she really despise humans in general or is it that her love for me is just unbearable to keep to herself and the way she projects it is something of hatred? I envy the perception she has. I wish I was capable of being able to dislodge my feelings and turn them into something else. For some reason, I can't do it.

I feel like a carnival of rust, waiting to crumble, vanish and never return. It was considered that the True Death would be a way to end this ….hurt; unrecognizable at first but grows, like the plague. It's consumed my heart and now has burdened my soul. Its walls that were strong as any metal in the world are weakening. My tears, now blood than water, stain my hands and face never to wash clean. Like a medal of honor that I am cursed to have. Am I now the Hamlet, drawn to insanity with unwashed hands? Should I wear my scars to enemies for them to have mercy upon me?

I should not.

That ray of hope she instilled in me, made me grow. It made me more of a man than of a creature that is sought to be just that; a creature. Is it also true that creatures, both good and evil, still have emotions? I still have mine even though I grow older yet never seem to show my age.

What do I do? I'm fighting to stay strong, keeping the hope that one day I will see the sun again; The warmth, gentle rays of redemption that I once felt when I was so innocent.

No, I must not think this way. Godric, my maker and bringer of life ( I guess), would not approve. I feel him with me all the time; keeping the demons that laid dormant inside from overtaking my mind; like they did with Bill.

William. Such a wonderful soul. Given he was an asshole and coward; he should have never did what he claimed "needed to be done." I saw what was before me. She thought there was a scrap of humanity left, but I couldn't bear to tell her. The light dwindled and soon faded as she cried within my arms. I felt sadness for Bill, like losing a friend or companion in battle. That one little shred of I had before I was changed, mourned for him; and I mourned for her.

Now, nothing can be the same. I hold her and there's the urge to just cry, but now I can't. The tears are dried up, within the sun herself.

One part of me says to capture what I've once loss and rekindle the flame that still burns both within us. Another says to fuck it all and just continue down the path of that blackness that soon will consume me.

Will the sun ever return? Do I have to wait for it?

I hate waiting.

This is it.

I'm not waiting anymore.

I will have the sun; even if I'm doomed to stand in it again.

At least this time, I'll raise my head and smile; for at last, I found her again.

This is only another beginning to start writing again. It's been over a year and I've still have to polish up on my ideas and writing. Be kind with reviews as this is just a quick thought. To others who have followed my stories, thank you for your support and great compliments for my writing. I'll be starting on a few more story ideas as time goes on. Thanks again!