School restarts tomorrow and I am especially anxious. If I could sleep I would surely be suffering from insomnia of late. I find myself restless and fidgety. It is hard to stay focused and I feel a great pressure all around me. I used to play my piano when I felt so agitated, but I can no longer find the courage to touch the keys.

These past few weeks Esme and I have been absorbed in the library project, Esme was right and it has been helpful to have a purposeful distraction. The renovations should be finished just before Christmas. There will be a new central heating system and better insulation, as well as more modern ramps and accessibility features, so together with the replacement of the leaking roof, the work will take some time to complete.

I have asked Alice to contact Angela Webber this week at school, requesting she organise a list of book suggestions for teenagers. Angela is good friends with Bella and has an uncommonly kindhearted disposition. Perhaps she will consult her on the book list and that way I can fill the shelves with some titles she wants to read, as well as the copies of her favourites that I have already ordered.

Maybe I should have resisted, but after re-reading the volumes I know Bella holds dearest to her heart, I wrote a favourite line from each inside the covers. I bought copies with gilt edges, because, whilst in practice they are gifts to the entire town, in my heart they are my love letter to her. A million page love letter to her. It still feels like it is not enough.

In practicality the books are a gift to the town and I genuinely hope many will benefit from them. There can be no denying though, that this entire scheme was concocted as a way for me to channel my devotion to Bella that wouldn't scare or hurt her. I am trying to find a way to reconcile my pressing need to express my adulation for her, with the desire to protect her from my unwelcome sentiments and silence myself. To shout my love into the void knowing she shall never be subjected to hearing it.

The books feel as innocuous a vehicle as any, they are unlikely to ever even pass through her hands, as she has personal copies of her favourites after all. I suppose this indulgence is a failure in some way, but I have learned this summer that I cannot repress and deny every emotion I experience without becoming warped and embittered. It is a delicate balancing act, but this way I can make the public statement I feel compelled to make, despite myself, without anyone ever knowing about it, thereby divesting the gesture of it's potential to harm.

The renovation plans are progressing well, Esme has suggested I might make some portraits of notable authors with which to decorate the walls. I have not drawn anything since I promised Bella I would not draw her. Perhaps it is a good thing to try this for Esme. I am so indebted to her and it pleases her so to see me engage in this undertaking.

After we finished the day's work on the library, Esme came to sit with me in my bedroom, as is our routine. She spoke with me today. She usually keeps our meetings quiet, even mentally, as she knows I need the calm and that I am too ashamed to be capable of putting all these untidy and aberrant feelings into words for her.

In her mind she spoke clearly to me though and said 'You know, I asked Jasper to let me feel for a moment what you were going through when you made him catatonic that time. It is not the same, exactly, but the last time I felt like that was just before Carlisle turned me.' She gave me a pointed look and then moved me to lay in her lap so she could stroke my hair.

We sat like that for some hours, watching the light change over the mountains from my window, as another sunset came and went. When I heard Carlisle's car approaching, I shifted to allow her to leave. When I sat up she cupped my cheek and looked at me thinking clearly 'Promise me, Edward. Promise me you won't go to Volterra.' Her eyes were searching and filled with desperation. I couldn't hold her gaze, filled with guilt for what I had put her through, what I was still putting her through, but I told her in a whisper "I wouldn't do that to you now."

I am relieved she did not speak aloud and this can be kept between us. I hope I can soon stop worrying her so.

A/N: Please leave a review! Esme knows what it's like. Edward has turned a corner here though I think. He feels the same but is trying to put others first.

I'm glad to get back to being able to write a little comedy here and there and soon Edward will dwell a little less on the past and a little more on his present. This story is labelled as angst/comedy and though it started out as comedy caused by Edward's angst, it is now a balance of both I guess. Edward is growing though and I think that is a beautiful thing. Are you falling in love with him yet? I hope so.

Thanks to the creative, kind and funny wh1teow1 for being the best beta for this story please show some love and read Moirai, a reimagining of Twilight for the new decade!