Chapter Thirteen
Dad started suggesting that I move back home a few days later. I'd returned to square one. Lost in the misery without even trying to escape with a form of desperation in my escape attempts. I was trying to cling to what I remembered of my hallucination. That's when Dad told me that it was time I moved on. No more chances, no more waiting for me to come around. Mom even agreed with him, and I refused. After a long debate, I broke down at the thought of leaving Forks. I couldn't ever do it. Dad didn't understand, but he said that he would give me one more chance before he bought the plane ticket home. One way. And I wouldn't be allowed to return. On that morning, I took a little more time on myself. I coordinated an outfit instead of throwing on the first thing I found. I made breakfast for Charlie and ate what I could. My leg still throbbed from the burn, and I tried to ignore it because it kept reminding me of the fact that Edward was gone.
I went upstairs to my room to go work on more songs--that was one thing to keep my mind occupied. I didn't want to go ask Jake for help surviving. He was probably still mad at me about the whole motorcycle thing anyway. Or maybe he'd figured out that Edward was the reason I'd gone that fast in the first place. He was an after thought in his eyes, but that wasn't it at all. He was a good friend. Only a friend, and he couldn't understand that. I grabbed a notebook from my desk and I didn't bother opening it to the first blank page. I just opened it. I froze, completely still. My heart had stopped again. No voice this time though.
Edward's writing this time. I would recognize it anywhere! It was his! I stared for a moment, trying to find my breath or at least stop shaking. What was this--some joke? Some cruel joke to hurt me more? Was it like that? Was Edward trying to haunt me? I felt my breath catch in my throat as the tears came. But I flipped back to the first page where his writing began. I realized it was the letter he left me while I was in the shower before. He'd left it... I wondered if he could ever have forgotten it. I doubted it. He was so complete before. Why would he forget a letter? And why would he leave it if he didn't? I paused, shaking worse than ever and I blinked away the tears until my eyes were clear enough to read the letter.
Timmy,
Maybe I'm not always able to express my reasons. You don't know why I don't want you to be like me. I've tried so many ways to tell you that I never want to see you hurt. That's unavoidable in this world, but I refuse to be the one to end your life. I refuse to be the one to hurt you. Ever. You don't know how it would torture me. It would ruin me if I ever hurt you in anyway or at all. The thought alone tormented me. I'm sorry if I'm crushing your deepest dreams, but I can't ever let you become something that I can't stand. I would never throw a burden on you that I couldn't bear myself. I know that this is a stupid fear and that you're stronger than that. You're a fighter anyway--nothing would ever phase you or break you. But I'm not going to end your life. Period. Don't ask me to hurt you for me. All I want is your happiness, and that's enough for me. If you're alive and happy, I can live without you forever. I would rather have you live the eighty years and have a few fears than to have you live forever without a soul to be with me.
You'll never understand that, so I won't try to force you. You'll never know what it feels like. Carlisle's struggled, and he's the strongest of us all. We fight no matter what, no matter where we go. We can never live a normal life. That's part of our curse. I can't ever let you become like this. I'm sorry.
I love you, and I know you can't ever comprehend how much. I just do. And I hope you can forgive me for my flaws, even the ones I'm glad I have. Like being as stubborn as hell. It keeps you alive, doesn't it? Don't forget my love because it won't ever end.
That was all the letter said, but I turned to the next page, and there was more. When had he had time to leave another letter? I was crying again, covering my mouth to calm my sobs. I couldn't breathe. Edward was lying to me. How could he have written this days before he'd destroyed my life? I couldn't read on yet. I had to find the breath and the strength. But in the end, I began before I was ever ready.
Ma Vie,
I don't know if you'll ever find this or if you'll remember me when you do. But I had to write this. To ease my conscious mostly because I was wrong. I couldn't leave you without telling the reasons, even if you don't ever understand them. I couldn't leave without giving you some way to remember me because I can't lie and say that I wasn't planning to come back someday. I knew I would come back years later. Sometime when our paths cross somehow. I have to explain this and I hope you can understand at least part of it.
I'm a vampire, even if my family doesn't drink human blood. There was still a possibility though, and it was too great for me to ignore. There was a night when I came by. You were fast asleep, curled up into a ball. I never understood what happened myself. I suddenly couldn't resist your blood. I'd just been hunting and when we hunt, our instincts take over. I hadn't returned to myself, and I thought I would kill you. I was taken over by this thing that could have stolen everything from me. I didn't know if I could resist the next time that happened if it did happen again. I didn't understand it then and I still don't. I thought I would kill you in your sleep. If I was ever to hurt you, I would want you to be asleep so you couldn't see me as a monster, like I am. Even if human blood isn't our usual diet, we're still vampires and I'm prone to temptation. We're like animals. I'd just had all the blood I needed, but the chance was there to have something better, and I almost took it because my instincts told me to. I love you too much to ever hurt you. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you. And I almost did. I almost ended your life that night.
I know you well enough to know you wouldn't believe me when I said I didn't love you. And you're right to do that. I didn't leave because I stopped loving you. Or because I never loved you at all. I left because I love you. I love you as much as ever and more because I know what this is probably doing to you. I love you too much to let myself hurt you. Even if it kills me to see you hurt now, I would rather believe I saved your life by leaving than ended it by staying. I know you're strong because you took care of your parents and your brother. You can get through this. I wouldn't have left if I questioned the fact that the fighter inside you would have given up without the fight of your life. I would have found another way if I could. But this was the only way I knew of.
Don't search for me--I won't be there. I'm just as stubborn as you are, beautiful. You won't be able to find me. Just know that I still love you. I still care so much that I'm willing to end this before I hurt you. It would be the end of me if I did. I know you'll move on, even if it takes forever to do it. That's built into your character, Timmy.
I laughed coldly, furiously. Edward left to save me? I would rather be dead than without him though. I wished he had killed me then and I knew I was crazy for it, but I didn't care. Edward left to save me, and he didn't truly realize how much it hurt. At least if he drained my body of blood, it would have been quick. This pain that I felt dragged on and on. It changed, got worse, changed. I never knew there was so many kinds of pain, but they were all mine, and all because Edward left. And he thought he was saving me from pain. He wasn't. Still, that's what he meant to do. And by leaving, he saved himself the pain he would have felt if he had hurt me. There was some gratefulness inside me at that thought, but hardly any. I sighed and returned to the letter. I didn't care what it said. I just needed to read it. I needed to hear Edward's voice in my mind as I read.
I wanted to leave and let you move on. When I heard you yelling after me, I knew you wouldn't move on because you're as stubborn as I am and because you're naive and you don't know what's best for you. Believe me; loving me isn't the best thing for you. Not that that would ever stop you. I realize I hurt you and I know I will never understand what I did to you by leaving. That's why I wrote this. I don't know if this will easy any pain or if it will only make it worse, make it harder for you, add to the confusion after what I said. I had to tell you that I lied though. You're not bad for me. You're the only person for me, and I never wanted to leave. I'm bad for you. I do love you and that's why I left. That's the only reason.
Maybe a few years from now, our paths will cross somehow. maybe by then, I'll be stronger and I'll be able to explain why I almost killed you that night. I owed you this explanation, and I'm sure my family will give me hell for leaving you because they don't know the reasons either. I couldn't tell them. But whatever happens, I hope you'll find it in yourself to forgive me even if you move on, even if you never love me again. I just need forgiveness. Not love. I had you for those few months, and as long as you forgive me, that's all I need. I can live with that because I know that I loved you with everything I had. I can't ask for more. And you gave me more than you know. After I left you, I don't deserve either forgiveness or your love. I can't ask for either one, but I'm stubborn like you and I can hope. I do hope because that's all I have to hold onto without you there.
I still love you. You're still my life. Nothing has changed. Nothing will.
Don't fall down.
Edward Cullen
I stared. I had laughed at the comment about falling down. I'd already ruined that. My anger and hatred disappeared. Tears flooded my vision again. It was harder than I thought--living. Dying was so peaceful and easy. Living was the hard part, and I didn't know if you could call what I was doing living. I once promised not to feel weak, not to waste my life away. I'd wasted a whole month already. I had the answers I wanted, but it hardly helped. Edward was still gone. The pain was still there. I had a life still, and I had one life to live. One short, tiny life to live, and that was it.
I took a deep breath and let the tears fall. It didn't matter anymore. Edward still loved me, and I found hope again. He loved me, so I could get by. I had millions of dollars in the bank and I had eleven months until I turned eighteen. Edward needed me because he was still beating himself up about nearly killing me. That was the only nightmare he could ever have. I sighed. Eleven months. I couldn't live through eleven months or eleven days like that. Not anymore. I had to take chances. I had to believe, trust, and try. Believe that Edward did love me, even if I wasn't sure. Trust that I could get through. And try to push on. I had to get my priorities straight too. I couldn't just do it for myself. That wasn't good enough anymore, and it never would be. I had to do it for Edward to make sure he never tormented himself, because I still loved him. He fell in love with Timberlee Stone. Not the frail, weak, emotional girl I'd become. His letter mentioned the possibility that we could meet again sometime in our future. So I had to go back to the girl he loved. I had to do it fast. I had to do it now--I didn't know when he would come back or even if he would. But I had to make myself strong again. I would search my entire life if I could see Edward happy once more, if I could see him one more time. I would have given my soul to be with him. I would have given everything to remember him for the man I loved. He made it hard because all I had of him was a picture, a pillow, the letter, and the nightmares. How was I supposed to remember the man I loved? Not the monster. I wanted to forget him always because it wasn't real. Edward hadn't wanted to become that way.
Even though I knew the reasons now, that couldn't erase the monster I saw in my mind when I thought of Edward. That Edward wasn't my Edward though, so I could put it out of my mind somehow. I would. There was two different Edwards. I would only remember my Edward. It would be hard because the pain in my chest reminded me how he hurt me, but I was a fighter like he said. I knew I was. I always had been. I could push through the pain and force my love of Edward to heal the pain, heal all of it, every part of it, every piece, all of it until there was nothing left but my loe. And then I could survive. And then I could find Edward again.