Hello?

I know ya'll get tired of hearing about how I'm sorry and real life took over but sadly, c'est la vie. This chapter was so, so hard to write. I ended up trying and spending four hours on the phone bawling about everything in my life that was stressing me out to clear the block. Not my most attractive hour.

Anyways, here's the new one. Still angsty, so sorry (I'm not sorry). Be happy though, things are looking up!

For those interested, I now have a merch store with cafepress. Drop by. I am particularly enamored of my pajamas :) . cafepress dot com slash teamdemonmonkey

The song for this chapter is Keep Breathing by Ingrid Michaelson. Originally, it was supposed to be for the chapter where she wakes up. That changed.

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Disclaimer: I recently acquired some cookie dough Oreos. I still don't own Stephenie Meyer's characters or I might have been able to get some cake batter ones as well.

Chapter Twenty Three: Keep Breathing

BPOV

I couldn't take this anymore.

Eternal life sucked.

I punched my fist into the soft soil of Esme's flower garden and dropped a bulb in. I was halfway around the house by now but my thoughts were filled not with the expectations of beautiful blooms or gestational periods. My thoughts were consumed with my unhappiness. While I loved the Cullens more than I could say, I was lonelier surrounded by my new makeshift family than I had been when I was alone at the cabin. I knew they were still making a valiant effort to make me feel loved after their son had tried to kill me and ended up changing me. That had been about as fun as a bag of cats. Emmett had nearly killed Edward. Carlisle stopped him but pretty much banished Edward from ever showing his face here again or all bets were off. He told him he could choose where to go but it was clearly implied that he was out of the family.

Meanwhile I had spent the last year learning how to be a member of the eternally dead. I struggled with it at first, not because of any crazy bloodlust, but because I had to watch my parents 'bury' me. I watched my father struggle through his job and almost take up alcoholism without being able to do anything. This was the pain that I had been warned about, the never ending misery of watching everyone you love suffer and die without ever acknowledging them. The Cullens had been so very generous with my family. They checked up on him; Carlisle would take him out for a beer, Esme made him dinner and cleaned the house. I appreciated the compassion and effort they showed him but it wasn't the same: he wasn't the same.

My mom had Phil, which was a comfort of sorts, but Emmett and Rosalie had taken it upon themselves to take some of my things back to my mom and they reported that even though she wasn't alone, she seemed lost. I wasn't really surprised, having been my mother's memory and brain for as long as I could remember, but the knowledge brought me no comfort. I did the only thing I could given the circumstances and turned to meaningless pastimes to distract me. I learned every language I had ever heard and some that I hadn't. I read every book in Carlisle's library plus some. I visited Italy and showed the Volturi that I was indeed immortal, politely refusing their invitation to join the Army of the Dead. I gardened with Esme, I danced with Carlisle. I made half the meals that Esme took to my father and the other basket cases in town. I learned how to fix cars with Rosalie and I visited Alice's grave everyday and talked to her about life in general, usually avoiding the subject of her husband.

It was a monotonous, repetitious façade of living. And I was tired.

I missed Jasper.

I hated to say it, hated to admit that even after he had turned his back on me I was still in love with him.

"I can't even look at you."

He hadn't ever tried to make contact. Carlisle and Esme had given up at my request but Rosalie had refused, attempting to call him until she too finally admitted that she couldn't reach him. I didn't blame him for refusing to answer and I never tried calling him myself. I couldn't beg him. I couldn't hear the inevitable rejection that would follow. So I threw myself into my useless projects, always feeling the hollowness in my chest where my absent heart should have resided, taken captive by a man that held no interest in me anymore.

"Hey, Bells," Emmett said, walking around the side of the house to stand over me.

"Hey Em. Did you finally beat your high score?" He shrugged.

"My heart wasn't in the game today. Want to go for a walk?" I looked up at him, sensing what had inspired this 'walk'. But Emmett had been my greatest supporter, the big brother I needed since my life fell apart and I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy spending time with him in our own little bubble.

"Okay," I said quietly, dusting my hands off and standing up. We walked slowly around the perimeter of the trees.

"Bella, you know I love you," Emmett started and I braced myself for what was coming.

"Sure, Emmett. I love you too."

"Well, who wouldn't," he asked pompously and I laughed, grateful for his attempts to loosen me up.

"Anyone with a brain," I retorted and he grabbed his chest in mock pain.

"You wound me," he gasped. We chuckled and walked before he cleared his throat. "I know you're not over Jasper," he said finally and I felt the pain begin to run through my body, burning and freezing me all at once.

"What makes you say that," I said quietly.

"I follow you sometimes, when you go out into the woods at night. I hear you crying and destroying things. And I don't buy this sudden interest in everything for one minute, Bells. I know what you're trying to do. But it's not working, is it? He won't go away, will he?" I sighed, feeling the beginning of sobs and still noting the absence of tears.

"No," I choked out. "I keep thinking that the more time that passes, the easier it will get. I start every morning thinking that today will be the day that I won't miss him as much, I won't think about him as often, I won't feel as sad. And every day it's the same. His absence is a constant emptiness in my chest, his betrayal a sting in my thoughts. I hate myself to missing him, for wanting him here and then I hate myself more for still blaming myself. It's a never ending cycle of misery." He stared at me as I let everything that I had been trying so desperately to hide for the last year come pouring out. He pulled me into his arms and held me while I sobbed tearlessly into his chest, rubbing soothing circles on my back and murmuring in my ear, the way Jasper used to but without the effectiveness of my lost love.

"I'm going to make this right," he said after a few moments.

"It's too late, Em. He doesn't want me," I whispered, finally stilling. Emmett pulled away and held me at arm's length. His eyes were hard with determination and his face was set.

"I'm going to make this right," he vowed solemnly. Then he kissed my forehead and ran off. A few minutes later, I heard the rev of the Jeep's engine coming to life and the crunch of gravel under the tires as he tore out of the garage and down the drive to the highway. I stared at the tree line and thought about Emmett's mission but instead of being filled with hope, I felt a new gloom take over me. I had no faith that this endeavor had a chance at success.

It was just too late.