Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

Solitude

"It'll be fun."

Hardly.

As much as I love Alice and her feeble attempts to cheer me up (though it doesn't work), leaving my family once in a while was my decision in the end. It's hard to be around them sometimes – always seeing two pairs of eyeballs where ever I turn. I knew Carlisle and Esme were worried about me – worried that I had been alone for too long, worried that I might never find someone important to me like they were to each other. But even during the ceaseless moving, my mask had never changed; I had never stopped wearing that same half-smile through my years of being alone. Too many endless years of monotony, too painful to count.

There was nothing wrong with me being alone, I just had to accept that there was nobody out there, human or otherwise, who could be anything more to me than family. I felt complete within myself. I had never longed for a mate, not even while I was human, and so my family shouldn't be worried about me. But whenever I turn to face them, always two sets of eyes stare back worriedly – Carlisle and Esme, Emmett and Rosalie, Jasper and Alice.

Ah, Alice. I suppose she had hoped something would have happened when we moved to Forks six years ago. Though it certainly wasn't her first time moving somewhere new, she seemed anxious at first. But as the school year approached the end of the semester, her excitement faded. I had never understood what had her worked up for so many months; perhaps a vision that had never come true, but it was gone now. Gone like so many normal other things.

"You should go to New York."

Why?

But it was nice to be away from them a while, even if they were only a few hour's drive away – even less with my maniac speeding.

Alice had promised me overcast weather. I had promised myself release. "Have a good time," Esme had said. I raised my eyebrows at this. Have a good time? After all these years of living with my mother, had she not gained any knowledge about my personality? Still, it was nice to confide in the solitude I had come to recognize for a few days. New York was an uncomfortably crowded city – depressingly so. Poor innocents had no idea of the danger that stalked them only meters away while they walked on the sidewalks, attending to their daily business. And of course, I was the one to suffer their brutal and morbid thoughts. My wonderful existence had yet again proved to be a burden. But if a burden was what I had to bear to purge, or at least lessen, the sins I had committed before, I would take it.

This was no vacation, being in this over-populated haven of heathen beings. Even I, the monster, was more civilized than them. I would have to hunt soon, as well, so as not to revert to my old ways and attack serial criminals. How fool of me not to have hunted sooner and come to this crowded city of so many people, so closely packed together. Even my luxury hotel room reeked of human stench and provoked me further into my thirst. This was the city of over eight million people, yet they had no wildlife more interesting than a few deer. Other than the zoos, which were of course, off limits. Even the newest of newborns could have known that.

I arrived back at my room from prowling some of the shadier areas of the island, places where tourists were not intended to go. However, I was no tourist and I was proud to say that my eyes still remained golden – however dark it was. I surveyed my image in the large mirror of my suite. The purple bruise-like shadows, similar to a human's lack of sleep, were more prominent than ever, marring the unbroken span of whiteness my face was. I looked at my features and sighed; how any human ever thought we were beautiful, I do not understand. I clearly looked brutal, monstrous, morbid even. Dangerous. My eyes clearly showed that. I sighed once more; humans were not so observant. Of course, normal humans don't normally have one hundred and ten years of experience. My lips were too thin, too often set into a permanent grimace; my cheekbones too sharp and angular, like great wings sticking out of a plain. And my hair such an unnatural bronze color, messy and disheveled. How could any person, human, monster, anything with a soul and anyone who was pure and innocent, love me? My family loved me, and I loved them as well, but we were only the eternally damned, forced to feed off of other creatures' lives in order to live. Well, not live, but to sustain ourselves and control ourselves from doing anything we might regret later. I wanted so badly to shatter that cursed mirror, to not look at my cursed self. I had to clench my fists in order to not break my own reflection.

I was so glad Carlisle had let me off of school this time. I don't think I would be able to bear another four grueling years – at least, not listening to petty child's minds. Their thoughts were so insufficient it was almost comical if I hadn't been hearing them for past hundred years or so. After Forks, I didn't know if I was able to stand those foolish girls chasing after me. One of the benefits of having a mate, although it did cause quite a scandal when the students found out about it. But still, still I did not regret not finding mine. I was complete within myself, as I had told a worried Carlisle and Esme so many times. There was no one who could understand my internal grievings, my self-inflicted hate of what I was; nobody could comprehend the emotions and the frustration of listening to peoples' minds; no one who could know me well enough to cause me to love them, or vise versa. Although, still, many people tried.

I changed clothes, an unnecessary action. It was done more out of boredom than anything else. I was planning to go for a stroll around NYU's campus, although I had done this many times before. However, I had never applied because the weather was not quite cloudy enough for my family and I. The temptation of entering NYU's medical program was very promising. How many years had it been since I had last studied medicine? Perhaps something new had been added – a new treatment or perhaps a new drug that Carlisle did not yet know about. I wished that my skin did not sparkle like it did so I could go out effectively in the sun. It would make everything so much easier. But since when has our existence been easy? I looked out the large window; still dismally gray. I tried not to think about how this was an acceptable analogy to my never ending days. I grabbed my jacket on the way out, remembering just in time that a person walking outside in thirty five degree weather without a jacket was not normal. But, since when have I ever been normal?

The buzzing of thoughts grew louder as I stepped outside. I shoved them down; no need to hear meaningless, inane thoughts. I had enough things to think about.

What could Alice have been excited about? Was it a vision? Had there been something going on (or would be going on) that I didn't know about? Did the others know about it? Was there somebody coming? The Volturi? Another coven of vampires?

Stop it. I reprimanded myself. Even if there had been somebody coming, they obviously changed their mind. But I couldn't help but wonder; what if they had come? Would my existence be different than it was now? Probably not, I answered my own question. There was little that could change the rut I fell into, the methodical pulse I followed. Would it have been a human, or a supernatural being like myself? What would I have done with them? What would my family think of them – think of me? What if this newcomer had come, would I have a certain attraction to them? Would I have…fallen in love?

I've seen love; I've experienced it in other people's minds. I've watched it happen thousands of times, watched it happen to my own siblings. I've felt it through other people's thoughts, experienced it in their shattered memories. I've felt all kinds of it – from the feeble, unrequited loves to earth-moving, ground-shaking, undeniably unbreakably beautiful love. I've felt all the crushes and hormone-induced whims of the schoolyard to the desperate, hopeless love of modern tragedies. I've felt every single kind of love there is to feel in this Universe, yet I've never felt love for myself. And I don't want it.

I am happy, no matter what they see behind this mask of indifference. I don't need somebody else to confide in; I don't need the change that brings the supposedly perfect bliss love is. I don't need another mask to put on, I don't need more expressions to choose from. My life is fine the way it is, soul or not, no matter what Carlisle and the rest think of my unnaturally calm features. Just because I show no emotion doesn't mean I don't feel it. I don't feel a hollow, missing space in my chest where my heart used to beat like Carlisle says I'm supposed to feel when I don't have a mate; I don't feel like I need something to complete me. Maybe I never will, I don't know. I'm fine with the fact that I don't have somebody to "complete" me. I'm fine that I probably never will experience the kind of love that Carlisle and Esme and Alice and Jasper and even Rosalie and Emmett share. I've never wanted anyone other than my family and certainly not anyone in a romantic way. And perhaps I never will. Maybe I was destined to be alone from the minute Carlisle changed me, from the minute I was born, even. Maybe what Alice had seen would have given me something to look forward to in my numberless days, something to hope for and to care about. Maybe what Alice had seen was my – mate.

The wind blew hard against my back, sending a rush of warm (well, moderately warm to me) blowing against my jacket. I was glad it was blowing this way and not the other; this way I couldn't smell the delectable scents of the humans surrounding me. My thoughts drifted back to Forks again. Was something supposed to happen while we were there? Something greater than the frivolous schoolyard fetishes those dreadful teenagers in high school? What would have happened if the even Alice had been so excited about came true? Would I have met someone I would love? Would I have met the girl of my dreams? I didn't even know who the girl of my dreams was, much less what she looked like in my mind's eye. But I knew and kept the qualities stored in a private filing cabinet in a dark corner of my mind: warm, brave, trusting, innocent, and selfless, most importantly selfless. Maybe if that vision had come true, I would be in a different position right now. Maybe I would be somewhere in Alaska, kissing my girlfriend, or fiancé or wife. Maybe we could extend our boundaries beyond any stretched before. Maybe we could rid of my –

The breeze pushed against my chest lightly. I stiffened, waiting for the scent of hundreds of humans to envelope me in thirst. I waited. Nothing.

And then I realized a young woman, in her early twenties maybe, on the ground, her wide brown eyes open in surprise. She blushed. I quickly gathered her books which were strewn across the sidewalk, her binders showing she studied in NYU. Before she could blink, I handed the books to her. She blushed again, took them, and sped off in the same direction. I watched as her long dark brown hair disappeared into the crowd.

Who was this woman? Why had she not talked to me? Why had I not apologized for being so careless and knocking her over? I tried to find her mind in the city of millions, and suddenly the incoherent buzz in my mind multiplied ten fold. But try as I may, I could not find the voice of that young woman. I could not find any thoughts that might have included her, either. But those two wide, chocolate-brown eyes stayed etched in my mind and engraved into my heart of stone.

I watched the crowd pass by me as I counted my endless days.