I know it's going to be bad for you, Jacob. I understand that – maybe better than you think. I don't like her, but… she's your Sam. She's everything you want and everything you can't have.
- Leah Clearwater, Breaking Dawn, pg.316, chap 16
~oOo~
Everything you want, but you can't have.
Jacob…
.
.
.
It's.
Disgusting.
Whatever happened to love, huh? I know I sound like some clichéd tagline for some second-rate chick flick, but seriously. What the hell.
Vampires get love. Freaking half vampires get love.
But not
werewolves.
Then again, apparently, I'm not a werewolf. So there you go. A shape-shifter, or something. Whatever Jacob's head was babbling about.
That was a long time ago.
That was in the time when I was part of a pack. Part of his pack. And when he as good as promised I could run away with him, when she died. As good as promised that we'd run away together.
As good as promised we were friends.
I still hear them in my head, you know. But, it turns our, half-way around the world the signal is sort of distorted. Running across the outback thousands of miles away from them sort of screws up the clarity.
Sometimes, I can't hear them.
Maybe those are my best moments. Maybe they're the worst. I'm kind of beyond making decisions a lot of the time.
There's nothing under my feet. The pounding is real, but it's not the ground I'm hitting. I'm running on a band through the sky, hundreds of thousands of miles away, running, flying … but it doesn't matter.
I'm alone.
Once, it was comfort. Something I longed for. Something Jacob could almost give me. Not exactly complete isolation, but freedom. Almost free of someone else's head, while being as free as I ever have been. Running …
That was before her. Of course it was. Once she came onto the scene, the dream was over. To think, once he had almost been physically sick over the thought of having such a little choice in the matter of his heart.
This wasn't his heart. I know that.
And suddenly, POOF! Instant obsession-in-a-can. And Jacob was running nowhere.
His promise
forgotten.
He lied.
Maybe he forgot. I'd like to think that. To think that, in some dark recess of his mind, the part that isn't adoring that half-vampire, some memory of me remains. I know that's probably not true.
I've gone back to being Leah. Irritating, bitter Leah, the old harpy at twenty. When I was twenty. Like I said, I'm not so sure how much time has passed. But for an hour, maybe, I honestly think we understood each other. He understood me. He had a Sam.
He was broken too.
We could have left then. We could have stayed tangled in our own cobwebs of lies and bonds, and never looked back. We might have been happier, even.
We might have been together, at least.
I still believe in love. How can I not? What's imprinting? It's supposed to be better than love. It's like, love, you are weak and illogical. Therefore, the werewolves shall not need to love. They shall be chemically bonded to whoever is likeliest to continue the werewolf lineage.
It's disgusting.
But what am I complaining about? I'm never going to imprint. No worries for me.
It's just too bad that it's still ruined my life and taken away everything that meant something to me.
I didn't go to the wedding. I could have … they asked me to. Sam asked me to.
Emily asked me to.
She asked me to be her bridesmaid.
I cried when she asked me. I couldn't help it. I left the house that day, and that was the day I started running.
I ran to Jacob.
I wasn't expecting him to come with me. I knew he wouldn't. I knew he couldn't. But I wanted desperately to tell him before I left.
I love you, Jacob.
I did. Don't know why, don't know how. But he had forgotten me. I could see it in his eyes, in the compelling adoration for the halfling in his arms. I could feel it.
I never said goodbye to Seth, or my mom. I should have, probably. But they have their own lives. They might have missed me. They probably did; but they knew better than to stop me.
I'll never see them again; I know that now, running this florescent path in the sky. Maybe I'm dead. Can you die of a broken heart? Maybe it depends on how broken your heart is. Mine's cracked about as many times as one heart can be. Defective merchandise, as ever.
So, everyone's life was wrapped up in a neat little package. Close the book, the story's over. All the crappy little extras can just go forge their own destinies; no one really cares, anyway.
Jacob, my Jacob.
I know it's not true. Never was.
Never will be.
.
.
.
.
Maybe that is why I can still cry.
xXx
A/N: I love Leah. She and Jake actually had a friendship that had a meaning. She confided his problems to her, and he had even gotten to the stage where he was like, Wow. Leah, I never knew ... I mean, Leah ... you know maybe you and I - BAM!! RENESMEE!!
That's how it went down.
This was inspired by twilight22lover's poem "My Jacob" which can be found in my favourites on my homepage, because I don't know how to do links. x.X
The quotes came from . Thank you!
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Stephanie Meyer does. However, I do have a friend who would gladly chain herself to Robert Pattinson for the rest of her life. That's got to be something, right?
Review if you love me. ;) Or hate me. //_- Or like the story. :D Because I love you. -beams-