"It's been a month and two weeks since Stefan fled, 6 hours, 14 minutes and 52 seconds. I never thought that I could miss someone this much, my heart aches for him." -I wish I was able to write this here and mean it, with my whole soul, I want to feel this way. But I can't, I don't. It's nice to have you to talk to again, journal. I really have missed you. You're the only one who I can tell everything to and not worry about being judged. The only one who can't breathe a word of how I really feel. And I need to get some things out of my system. Things about… Damon. It has been… different ever since Stefan left, he's been avoiding all of my calls. He's, detached-more so than normal I mean. I've gone to check in on him several times and he is always… drunk. Damn Bourbon. I'm starting to get really worried.

"I really aught to compel myself someone to bring me more Bourbon," Damon muttered to himself, snickering at the idea as he poured the last few drops of his drink into his mouth. He got up from his favorite black leather chair that he had imported some decades ago, probably soon after he and… Stefan had the place built, he recalled. Tipsily, he walked over the liquor bar and frowned, "All outta whiskey."

He knew he didn't need anymore, he was plenty drunk. It was just that he couldn't risk sobriety. He couldn't let it all back in, the betrayal, the emotion… his humanity.

Damon forced himself to stop thinking that way. Everything's ok, he told himself. When in all honest truth, he knew that everything wasn't ok. He wanted his brother back in Mystic Falls, Klaus dead, and Elena-he just wants her to be happy. Whatever that may mean for her. Damon let out a sigh as the doorbell rang, it's classical hum ringing in his ears much more loudly than it should, due to his intoxicated state.

"Come in." Damon said plainly. Not necessarily thrilled at the idea of company right now. He sat back down in his chair as Elena walked into the living room.

"Why have you been avoiding my calls? I've been... worried." Elena said, angry yet hesitant, unsure of what Damon's answer would be.

"I don't like phones anymore, they tend to... disappoint me." Damon said, sarcastically.

"Really Damon!" Elena said, taking this situation much more seriously than Damon.

"I've been... busy. Plotting revenge on Klaus. You want to hear what I've come up with? So far, I've narrowed it down to three options-"

"DAMON!" Elena interjected, fed up.

"Ok, fine! You caught me Elena, I didn't want you to see me like this." Damon said, letting the truth out, really wishing he had more Bourbon. "I don't like you to see me so.. like this." Damon looked down at himself and then turned away, staring into the crackling fire- how long had that been going? He wiped his hand across his face, only then realizing he hadn't shaved in maybe three days.

I must be a mess, he thought.

Elena sighed, "Damon," she said, walking over to him. Pain was evident across her face. "Damon, look at me."

She cupped his face in her hands gently turning his head to look at hers. "Do you remember what we decided? We're just going to have to let go, Damon. We have to let him go." A tear went down her cheek.

Damon wiped it away softly and looked into her eyes, they shared a common feeling of emotion that was so evident in both of them, an ultimate, passionate connection.

It was in that moment that they truly let Stefan go.

It was also in that moment that Damon messed things up in only a way that Damon could.

He pulled Elena's face in closer, looking at her lips longingly. She was perfect. In every way. Even in her navy blue flannel-plaid pajama bottoms and miss-matched pink camisole, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

He kissed her. Passionately, hungrily, their chemistry was undeniable. There was no doubting the way they felt about each-

"Damon-Damon! Stop! Ouch! DAMON!" Elena cried out, sounding scared, "Damon! You're drunk!"

"Elena.." Damon said, hurt, confused, desperate.

"It's just too soon Damon. I'm... not there yet." Elena said.

Damon let go of her and in a flash, he was gone.

[page beak]

Elena sat in the chair that Damon had been occupying, it was still warm. She had known that would hurt Damon, but it was true, she wasn't ready to go there. What was she thinking? Ready? Would I ever be ready to go there with Damon? I mean, he's Damon. Then Elena thought to herself… maybe.

And that thought was all it took to get her mind wandering.