A/N: So, because I pissed off a group of feminists, they reported my Amazon page repeatedly until all but two of my stories were removed. Needless to say, this one isn't going up there and I'll probably be pulling the rest down. Posting is happening here again, for now. Anyway, stupidly long, ridiculous a/n at the bottom.

Enjoy.

Three long days.

Three ridiculously, tortuously, long mother fucking days since my date with Edward, and I hadn't seen him since. Which shouldn't have bothered me but it did. I had passed the 'what the fuck' stage and had entered the fucking pissed stage. I had never been on this end of it before, the one sitting around waiting for the fucking proverbial phone call, which never fucking came. Of course, he didn't have my number, but he knew where to fucking find me, not like I was in witness protection or some shit.

In his defense, it didn't usually take much for me to reach the pissed stage in a normal situation anyway, but with Edward being...well, just fucking wonderful and so God damn sexy, I was already irritated that I didn't get what I wanted when I wanted it. Then, to top it off, he completely and utterly disregarded me.

At the very least, he could have at least shown up at the diner to explain what I did.

No.

Not what I did.

What he did.

He was the one that had stormed off with no rhyme or reason.

What I couldn't wrap my mind around was why the fuck did I care? Yeah, he was wonderful and sexy and all, but I could pretty much have anyone I wanted, so I couldn't come up with a single explanation as to why it should be bother so much. Except that he was the only guy I had ever fucking struck out with.

And not to mention the sexual chemisty. The fact that whenever we fucking touched, my skin, my entire God damn body felt like I had stuck my finger in a socket. An electric current raced through me even at the slightest touch, and the fucking kiss? Jesus, when we kissed, my body buzzed so much I thought for sure I would explode. And I know he fucking felt it too, it wasn't just me. I could see it in his eyes, feel it in his reaction to me. There was no fucking doubt in my mind that he wanted me as much I fucking wanted him.

And oh, how I fucking wanted him.

And I fucking needed to get laid, it had been way too long. I decided that a night out on the town would do me some fucking good. Go out, get a hot piece of ass, go home.

Decision made, I grabbed my jacket and helmet before heading out to my bike. As much as I knew where I needed to go, a part of me dreaded heading back into the city.

Riding down the highway, my leather jacket just barely keeping out the October chill, my mind drifted back to how I felt when I was with Seth, the only other person that I had more than just a fuck 'em, dump 'em session with. Seth was fucking amazing. Everything a guy could want or need; sensual and caring in bed, and a fucking expert at giving head. He was also a fucking saint outside of the bedroom in every way.

He was wonderful but...it just wasn't there. That pull, that fucking unnameable something extra that kept people together no matter the price, no matter what they did to each other, they can't stay away from one another. You're fucking lucky if you find it once in your life.

I had just found it, but hadn't seen it in fucking three days.

Fucking Edward. As I pulled into the parking lot of my favorite club, I forced myself to push Edward as far out of my fucking head as possible. I wasn't going let him ruin my night again. Walking through the door, I immediately pulled a twenty out of the back pocket of my jeans and lifted the sleeve to my jacket, handing the bill over to the door man and letting him place an 'Over twenty-one' bracelet on my wrist.

Who says money doesn't talk?

I didn't bother with the coat check because no one touched my fucking leather jacket. It had been a present from Garrett my last Christmas at home, and I refused to take the chance on it getting fucked up or worse.

Being a Friday night, the place was fucking packed. Music filled the air, the song reminding me why that bar was my favorite. They didn't play that techno shit, just good dance music, shit to grind and fuck to. Men filled the dance floor, most of them shirtless, the strobe lights making the sweat on their bodies glisten. All of the body heat made the entire fucking place smolder and I could already feel the sweat beading on the back of my neck, my jacket making it so much fucking hotter. Pushing my way through the crowd, my eyes were solely on the high set bar, desperately needing a fucking drink.

As soon as I got to the bar, I noticed the nearest guy was already giving me 'the look'. I was fucking hot, every one gave me 'the look', gay guys, bi guys, straight women, fuck, even the occasional straight guy.

"What'll it be, honey?" The bartender asked as I placed my elbows on the smooth bar top for a moment before it dawned on me what I could possibly be getting all over my jacket.

"Shot of tequila and a Corona please," I answered as I gave the guy to my right a once over. He was definitely attractive but a little too bulky for my taste. I preferred a leaner build, defined but not overly muscular. And his hair was too dark. I wasn't in the mood for a brunette, I needed something lighter...maybe with a red tint.

"Hey, hot stuff," guy to my right purred while I downed my shot, which I then immediately chased with a big swig from my beer.

Really?

"Not interested," I stated flatly, hoping he wouldn't make another lousy attempt at seduction. "Another," I requested as guy to my right walked away. The bartender quickly handed me another shot, making an amused expression at how quickly I threw it back, once again chasing it with, and finishing off, my Corona. I didn't even have to ask for the second beer, he just slid it my way.

Good man.

Setting my beer down on the bar, I spun around, scanning the dance floor for someone appealing.

Fuck, not even appealing, just someone who would do.

I didn't need Robert Pattinson or anything.

Allowing myself to take in all the bodies in front of me, I quickly moved past the obvious tops, knowing good and damn well I've never bottomed and I didn't plan to. Tops were always the easiest to spot; the way they carried themselves, their stance, even the way they dressed. Their silky shirts half undone, the jeans slung low on their hips, black leather belts threaded through the loops.

It worked out well, it made it easier to just pick someone up without having to deal with the awkward situation of 'Oh hey, by the way, I don't take it up the ass'.

My eyes roamed over a few twinks, some too skinny or too short, hair too long or too much...just too much of something. No one seemed to catch my eye.

And then I spotted him.

Dancing with one of the obvious tops, his tall, shirtless form swayed with the beat, his light brown hair matted with sweat. He was defined, the muscles in his stomach tensing every time he moved his slim hips. Full lips curled over bright white teeth as he laughed at something the top whispered in his ear.

And, even from where I was standing, I could tell that his eyes were green.

Perfect.

Normally, I would never move in on another man's game, but I was desperate. I knew what I needed and he fit the bill, so I at least had to try. Pushing myself off the bar, I quickly handed the bartender a bill and made my way over to the green-eyed substitution, his back now to me as the top spun him around, his discarded shirt hanging from the back of his jean pocket. He jumped slightly as my hands gripped his hips from behind and I leaned down to his ear and whispered seductively, "Is this a private party, darlin'?" The booze making my words thick with my accent.

The top stared at me incredulously as I moved my hands from the bottom's hips, dragging them over his stomach up to his chest, circling his nipples with my fingertips. Turning in my embrace, he looked over me appreciatively before throwing a look over his shoulder and quickly looking back to me, he smiled widely. "It is now," he said as he brought his arms up and loosely wrapped them around my neck.

I couldn't resist, I looked over the bottom's shoulders to the top and gave him my crooked grin, chuckling when he rolled his eyes and walked away.

"What brings you here tonight?" he asked with a knowing smirk when I looked back at him.

Leaning into his neck, I ran my tongue across the skin just below his ear, the taste of his sweat still lingering as I whispered, "Why don't you take me back to your place and I'll show you."

I was not in the mood for chit-chat.

I didn't even want a dance.

I just wanted a fuck.

"Pretty sure of yourself, huh?" he said with a teasing smile, his fingers playing with the curls at the nape of my neck.

I pulled one of his arms from around my neck, grabbing his wrist and pushing his hand to palm my cock, I let him feel it harden under his touch. "Why wouldn't I be sure of this?" I emphasized my meaning by guiding his hand to stroke me. His eyes darkened and his jaw dropped as he felt me and I just had to smirk.

Hook. Line. And Sinker.

It never failed.

He recovered slightly before he asked, "Can I at least get your name?"

Moving my mouth to his ear, I gently bit his lobe, enjoying the soft moan that escaped him. "Name's Jasper, darlin' and I look forward to hearing you scream it."

This time, the moan he let loose was anything but soft.

"D-Demetri..." he stuttered, inclining his head toward me as I continued to nibble and lick his ear and neck, the feel of my tongue ring probably conjuring up all kinds of fantasies in his head. It did not escape my attention that his hand was still stroking my now hard cock.

"Mmm, Demetri, ready to get out of here?"

He nodded before pulling away from me and grabbing my hand, practically fucking dragging me toward the door. Stopping just long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head, we walked outside, the cool air feeling especially chilly against my over heated skin.

"Cab?" he suggested, probably noting the liquor on my breath, immediately raising his hand when I nodded.

Luckily, he lived close to the club and within fifteen minutes we were walking through his apartment door. I didn't even have time to take in my surroundings before I was pushed up against the door and his mouth was on mine.

Yeah, I could work with this.

With my eyes closed, I threaded my fingers through his hair, the color not nearly as fucking important when I couldn't see it. It wasn't as soft, or as thick as I wanted, but my fingers found a comfortable home at the nape of his neck as my lips parted and his tongue invaded my mouth.

His taste was...different. Not altogether fucking horrible, but not as sweet as I desired either. When his hands reached for the hem of my shirt, I stopped him. Pushing him away a step, I took off my leather jacket and leaned around him to toss it over the back of his couch. Once it was off, his hands were back at the bottom of my shirt, already pulling it up over my abdomen, I lifted my arms and he pulled it over my head, dropping it to the floor at our feet before returning his mouth to mine. I arched into him, letting out a growl of frustration when his hands gently skimmed down my chest, not even stopping to play with my nipple rings. Instead, his fingers grazed over my stomach muscles and rested on the button my jeans. This gentle shit was for chicks.

Fucking touch me, scratch me, suck me.

"You're so fucking hot," he murmured against my mouth before I tilted my head and he made his way to my neck. Pressing me into the door, I felt his hard cock against my thigh and I was pretty fucking eager to get things moving along.

Taking my hands from his hair, I slid them down his back and cupped his ass, it was firm and tight, but not as round as I preferred.

"Couch," I demanded in a low voice.

Let's get on with the action.

Releasing my neck, he grabbed my hand, turned and guided me to the couch. Stopping, he turned to me and pushed me hard down onto the couch, his hands at my belt, undoing it, and my pants, with blinding speed. Roughly, he yanked on my pants as I lifted my ass off the couch to help him out, me erection springing free and bobbing with my movement. I admit, I smirked when his eyes widened at my impressive size, it was something that never got old. After tugging my pants down to my ankles, his hand firmly gripped my cock and gave me one long stroke.

That was fucking more like it.

Not usually one for chit fucking chat, I felt the unusual need to tease him, to engage him in some sort of banter.

With my hands on his shoulders, I watched his eyes devour me from balls to tip. "Like what you see?" I hissed as his thumb brushed over the head, spreading my precum. Instead of blushing and glancing up at me with his green eyes, he only nodded and licked his lips.

I ignored the pang of disappointment that shot through me.

Sighing, I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes again, letting my mind wander as he continued to kiss and lick around my cock, his tongue darting out to cover my flesh. Finally sucking my head past his lips, I moaned and bucked my hips, enjoying the tight suction he was creating with his cheeks. His touch was how I imagined another's might be, the same soft skin mixed with the same forceful, confident actions.

Of course, I had no fucking clue if that was accurate or not.

Fuck, I was sobering up way too quickly for my liking.

"Fuckin' hell," I groaned as his suction lightened, teasingly lapping at the head of my cock with his tongue. Sucking slowly, he worked his way back down my shaft, stopping half way down before he started working his way back up again.

Really?

Was that all of me he could take?

Resisting the urge to fucking slam myself deep into his mouth, I fisted his hair, hinting at my frustation with his fucking delicate shit.

I felt his hand slide up my bare stomach, stopping briefly to finger the lines of my muscles before continuing upwards to my nipple, caressing the metal bar with his fingertips and tugging ever so slightly. His mouth slid off my cock with a loud popping noise. "Ready to fuck me, baby?" he asked, his voice lacking the sexy tone mixed with shy bashfulness I missed.

His ass had to be better than his mouth. I mean, a tight hole was really all I was looking for.

But then his eyes met mine.

Fuck.

Just...fuck.

His eyes were wrong. Sure, they were green, but they weren't the right shade.

They were empty...boring.

Eyes to match the blow job skills, I guess.

With a groan, I stood up, nearly knocking him over in the process and proceeded to pull up my jeans. "Have you ever even sucked cock before?" I asked incredulously as I gathered my shirt off the floor, not bothering to look back at him.

It was a good thing I didn't expect an answer because he certainly didn't give me one.

"What the fuck is your problem?" He asked angrily, standing up and balling his fists, almost as if to challenge me.

That would have been a bad move.

Slipping my shirt over my head, not even bothering with the fact that it was inside out, I quickly grabbed my jacket off the back of his couch, threw it over my forearm and headed for the door.

"Fuck you, asshole," he yelled out as I slammed the door to his apartment.

I didn't even make it ten feet from his place before I fell against the brick wall, sliding down it and dropping my head into my hands, the scent from my leather jacket assaulting me as I buried my face into my palms.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

As much as I hated to admit it, I already knew what was wrong with me.
Fucking Edward.

It was as if he had fucking ruined me in the short amount of time I had known him. I couldn't even enjoy getting head because my thoughts were absorbed with his face, his eyes, his mouth.

I felt like complete shit.

Fuck, I felt worse than I had before I had gone to the club.

Something had to give.

Pushing myself back to my feet, I put on my jacket and grabbed my phone from my back pocket, dialing the number to the one person I knew could make me feel better.

"Seth? Babe, I'm sorry it's so late, can you talk to me for a bit?"

Welcome to fucking hell.

Well, maybe not quite hell, but close enough.

Longest mother fucking day of my life. While I was forced to wait on annoying customers wanting their ketchup, or an extra napkin, or their mayo on the side, I still felt like shit from the night before, having only gotten three hours of sleep and a really bad fucking headache.

I mean, does it really fucking matter if the mayo is on the burger or not? If you're going to put it on anyway, what fucking difference does it make?

The hightlight of my night was the fifty-year old woman who flirted with me, commenting on my eyes and left me a three dollar tip when she left, although I had been half expecting a napkin with her number on it.

Whatever paid the bills. Of course, every twenty seconds I was glancing at the door, hoping I would see a familiar mop of messy bronze hair, but it never came.

Bastard.

After spending the night weaving in and out of customers, carrying food, taking orders, and cleaning tables, it was finally closing time. Val and I began our nightly routine, we worked together well, like a finely tuned machine. I knew what she preferred to do, she knew what preferred.

She didn't even try to make conversation, or ask about Edward. She was a smart girl, knew when to keep her mouth shut.

"Val, just get the fuck out of here, I got this," I told my boss as she was wiping down the counter, her hair had fallen down over the course of the day, and she looked tired as hell. I knew she wanted to get home for date night with her husband, and we were almost done anyway.

"You sure?" She stood up straight, stretching from side to side to work out the kinks from standing on her feet all day.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it, go. Go have date night, get laid." I chuckled, making her blush. "At least one of us should," I mumbled under my breath.

"Okay, thanks, Jasper," she called out as she grabbed her bag and headed for the door. "See ya tomorrow, bright and early."

"Fuck off," I replied rolling my eyes.

About thirty minutes later, I was finished and grabbed my bag. Time to go home, eat, rub one out and go to bed only to fucking do it all over again tomorrow.

What the fuck had happened to my life?

Before Edward, I had never found my life so...dull. Sure, I missed home and missed my family but I was doing okay, for the most part. I went out, had a few drinks, got laid. It was a good system for me. But after the night before and the terrible fuck up with Demetri, I realized I couldn't go on the way I had been. Edward had royally fucked that up for me and for some reason, I still felt as though he was the only important thing in my life. The only good thing.

And the one good thing I had had in my life had walked out four days ago.

As I put on my jacket, I thought about giving Seth a call when I got home, if anyone would make me fucking smile again, it would be him.

Walking out the front door, I turned to lock the place up when something moving off to my right caught my attention.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Edward...give me a God damn heart attack." I exclaimed, clutching at my chest because it felt like my fucking heart might explode, and not just because he scared the shit out of me.

Because he was there.

And fuck me, he looked so fucking sexy. No one should have ever looked that good in boring khaki's and a button down shirt.

God, and those eyes. Those fucking sparkling bright green eyes staring back at me, wide and lit with a hint of amusement at my outburst. His full lips forming a sheepish grin and his cheeks tinged with pink.

Jesus, I fucking wanted him.

"What are doing here?" I asked as I walked toward him.

"I, uh...I wanted to apologize for leaving the way I did the other night." His voice was small, timid and even sounded a bit sad.

Part of me wanted to ask what the fuck he could possibly have to be sad about, this was his doing, not mine. I was the one who had the right to be fucking sad, pissed off, hurt...any number of other emotions that I didn't have the right descriptions for.

But a bigger part of me wanted to comfort him, to take away whatever negative feeling he was experiencing and tell him that it was okay. No matter what, it...we would be okay.

That thought fucking terrified me.

It was too early, and way too fucking assuming to feel so strongly about him. Especially considering how our one and only date ended. I looked back to him, trying my hardest to keep my expression neutral. "Okay, apology accepted. We good here?" I gestured back and forth between us.

A hurt look took over his expression and I immediately felt like shit for being so harsh, but I was still too pissed off to bother with back peddling and trying to make it better.

I took his lack of response as a yes and turned to walk away. "Jasper, wait," He pleaded as he grabbed my hand.

As soon as his skin touched mine that same electric feeling shot through me, but it was more intense than I remembered, the current so strong and pleasurable that my eyes slid closed and a hiss escaped my lips. I heard his gasp right before his skin left mine and I opened my eyes to see him rubbing his palm.

He fucking felt it too.

I fucking knew it.

That really annoyed me.

If he felt it too, why would he deny that feeling?

"What do you want, Edward?" I questioned, my annoyance seeping into my words more than I liked.

"Just let me explain..."

"Explain what, exactly? Why you decided you weren't interested after we had an amazing time together? Or, did you decide it after we kissed and practically dry fucked each other on the street?" I challenged, my aggravation only increasing when that same feeling of concern coursed through me at his hurt expression.

"It's not...I'm...It wasn't like that. It's not because I'm not interested...I'm just," he stammered, clearly flustered.

He looked like he wanted to reach for me, holding out his hand and then dropping it, taking a few steps closer to me and then taking one back again.

And of course, the masochist in me wanted to step forward and reach out.

Instead of reaching for him, I brought myself to full height, crossing my arms over my chest and waiting. He shoved his hands into his pockets and ducked his head, avoiding my gaze.

"I'm waiting," I reminded him.

He took a deep breath and, without looking at me, he rushed, "Ihaveaboyfriend."

Wait, what?

"Come again?" I said, praying to God I hadn't heard him right.

Finally looking back at me, his eyes filled with sadness and guilt, he answered in a small voice, "I have a boyfriend...well, I don't know if you can really call him a 'boyfriend' anymore. We've been together for eight years."

Well fuck me very much.

I felt like I had just been hit by a truck.

Scratch that, I felt like I had just been hit with a dump truck carrying a load of bricks.

What the fuck?

He took me out on a date, showed me an amazing time and then gave me the best kiss of my God damn life while having a boyfriend. I wasn't sure if I should be pissed or congratulate him on being an honest person.

"Jasper, I'm sorry. I never intended..."

"What did you fucking intend?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Always the masochist.

"I...I don't know, honestly. I guess..."

Raising an eyebrow at him, I straddled my bike and waited. "Enough of the mind games, Edward, just spit it the fuck out."

Okay, so I had no patience.

Resigned after my comment, he sighed and spit it the fuck out. "I just wanted to get to know you," he said sheepishly, fidgeting a bit under my gaze.

He wanted to get to know me?

For what?

I mean, I was trying to get to know him as well but then he...

And that's when it hit me.

Fuck.

He hadn't been asking me on a date.

He was asking me as a friend.

A fucking friend.

That took all the fucking wind out of my sails.

I was an assuming asshole and had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he wanted me the way I wanted him. Always thinking with the head between my legs, I didn't even consider the possibility that he just wanted to be friends.

Friends.

"Oh," I mumbled lamely, feeling a bit embarrassed at how I had acted with him. I looked anywhere but directly at him while I considered my options, which weren't many. I decided to man up and take the fucking road less traveled...at least by me. "Look, I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions, my mistake, my bad, whatever the fuck you want to call it, but Jesus, Edward, you could have told me about the boyfriend shit ahead of time, ya know? Warn a guy."

Giving me a small apologetic smile, he conceded I was right. He should have told me before our non-date date. Then again, perhaps the non-date date wouldn't have happened had I known about the boyfriend.

"I know, I'm sorry." When his green eyes met mine, there was no way in hell I wouldn't accept his apologize, fuck, part of me was thankful to have gotten it. What kind of pussy had I become?

If anyone else had pulled this shit on me, they wouldn't be standing.

"I just hadn't expected it to end with that..." He practically shuffled his toe in the dirt.

Shit, he was just too fucking cute, and I had to tease him, I had to remind him. "With that?"

Sighing, he looked back up me, his stare even, and deep and tinged with guilt. Guilt because he kissed me or guilt because he wanted to do it again? I wasn't sure I wanted to know which.

"Kiss," he blurted out suddenly, the blush returning quickly to his pale cheeks.

The blush confirmed what I already knew, and yet, as much as I hated myself for it, I was about to let him off the hook because...well, I had no fucking idea why.

Because he was Edward and apparently I was cock whipped, which was pretty fucking stupid considering I hadn't even seen his cock.

"Forget about it, Edward. It's not a big deal. Completely forgotten."

For about thirty seconds.

Grabbing my helmet, I shook my hair off my face to put it on, as I buckled the snap up, Edward stepped up to the bike, placing a hand on the handle closest to him.

"Wait, please," he begged, his voice desperate. "Can we...canwebefriends?" The desperation had turned to hope as he bit his lip waiting for my answer.

Glancing down at his hand on my bike, I wanted nothing more in my fucking life than to reach out and touch that electric skin, my body pulsing for that current, demanding to feel it flow through my flesh and bone.

Friends?

Fucking friends.

Fucking friends don't yearn to touch each other the way I wanted to touch him. The way my body screamed for me to touch him. Friends was impossible, I couldn't be with him, near him like that all the fucking time and not be able to lay a hand on him.

Really fucking impossible. No God damn way.

"Sure, Edward, sounds good," I replied, starting the bike up, letting it roar to life under me. Grinning, he stepped back to let me pass.

I could do friends.

Right?

So, this A/N isn't anything important, it's just things I want to say because, God, I miss this place.

Does anyone else feel that way? When Twilight is mentioned or you see the preview for 50 Shades of Plagiarism, do you ever just think, "Wow. I miss that fandom?" I do. Literally, all the time.

Short story time: I've lived nearly my entire life in a very small, rural town in Louisiana. We get excited when new Wal-Mart's are built, we aren't very cultured. There aren't many varied groups and interests down here. And I've always felt out of place. I can remember being 7 years old and becoming obsessed with Cry Baby (yes, the John Waters film- my mother made bad parenting choices), and when I would watch it on repeat, everyone would always talk about how strange I was. Then, Interview with the Vampire came out and it took over my life. Pre-teen years were ruled by Titanic and Leo. And every time, I was that weird girl that liked books and movies too much. I needed to get out more, I needed a life, I needed friends. Until it reached a point that I didn't talk to anyone about what I liked because the taunts were suffocating.

Then Twilight happened. I was 22-23, a wife and a mother, and I picked up a book and couldn't put it down. And after I'd read the series a dozen times, I went online and looked up the author. Found out about Midnight Sun and went searching for the leak. Then, I found fanfiction. Something I didn't even know existed.

But I didn't just find fanfiction. I found this wonderful online community of people that were also the weird girls who just liked books and movies too much. I found people that didn't make me feel bad about crying over fictional characters. For the first time –and last, it seems- I didn't feel like an outcast. I fit in somewhere, as cheesy and juvenile as that sounds.

And then I discovered that I liked to write, and that opened up so many other things.

I miss 2010. I miss weekly updates and holy shit, DefinatelyStaying killed Bella in House of Cards! I miss when new blogs were unveiled and did you guys see those new Rob pics?! When the most exciting thing in my life was AngstGoddess003 and PastichePen hosting a slash contest and oh my fucking God, is AngstyG gonna read my shit, what the fuck am I gonna do? I miss group chats on gmail and Twitter trivia. Bugging Lou-La for a new story, badgering ArcadianMaggie for an update. When Starfish422 made Edward and Jasper break up in Over the Top and it was the most devastating moment of my short life. When TuesdayMidnight wrote the hottest spank!fic in the world. When SadTomato made me like Jakeward stories. When Avioleta updates appeared in my inbox and I literally dropped everything. When Marked made my entire Sunday, every week. When OnTheTurningAway wrote a watersports fic and I literally died from kink-happiness.

When Val was my best friend and we spent every single day either writing or talking about it.

I messaged her just a few days ago to talk about this very subject and it was so nice to just, pour my stupid little heart out about these stupid little things that no one else understands.

It's like a relationship where one party has moved on and started dating someone else and the other party is stuck looking at old photographs and wishing they had a time machine. I'm the latter, and all of those things are the former. And I've got the bitterness of a jilted lover, wrinkling my nose when the Teen Wolf fandom is mentioned or I see Divergent release parties. Not Harry Potter, though, because Snape/Draco but, you know.

So, I've got all these stupidly happy memories but they're all really sad too because I'll go back and read a story and it makes me so fucking giddy but then I'll look at the date and realize how long ago it was. Or trying to visit old blogs and they're all shut down. Or, the worst, going to read a story and you see the entire account has been purged.

Well, when I sit down to write, all this sadness hits me like a ton of bricks and I start crying, close the computer and walk away. And I know it's because I feel so alone all the fucking time. I'm that weird girl again, attached to fictional characters that are so 3 years ago and it hurts in such a stupid, ridiculous way. I'm back to being a freak and I hate it. I cry about a stupid fandom, who does that? I'm crying right now, writing this.

So, yeah. It's not just Twilight or these boys. It's everything that came with it. The friendship and conversations and idiotic fangirl squealing. All the things I can't seem to let go. I've turned into the worst, cheesy melodrama ever.

Anyway, I'm done with the pity party. I'm putting all these chapters up today and working on the rest. If not for any other reason but that, maybe once I complete these fics and get them out of my head, I can move on.

To the few that are left, y'all are awesome. That's all.