Time

Time is a queer thing.

As I was reborn, time became meaningless. Where before the number of my days foretold my actions, defined my efforts and prescribed my achievements, I found myself suddenly free of those restraints. Time no longer flew or ran short. I existed with no fear of the darkness, no number of the days, the years. Time stretched before me as an everlasting resource, air, earth, to be used, consumed without care or thought.

I stood immutable in the river of time as past, present and future flowing around me. I did not change; I did not wear; I neither aged nor eroded. I lost nothing to time; I gained nothing from time.

Bella has changed time forever.

Such a small and fragile human, she has the power over meaning and measurement. She has given time has dimension. When I am not with her; it becomes long and heavy, a burden I must carry until in her company again. When I am with her, time is fleeting, elusive flowing around me and sweeping her from my embrace. In her arms, I am free of the bonds of time. In my arms, time becomes her burden. (The memory of her scent, close to me, pulls me into a reverent dream and my body burns…)

She rushes to immortality, spurred on by my embrace. The closer I draw her to me, the more insistently she begs to end her life, to give up her soul, to embrace life without end.

This seems far too indicative of our plight to be purely coincidental. Though we love, though we need, the growth of these emotions inversely affects us. If out of love for Bella, I protect her body and soul, time robs her of the length of her love for me. As I pull her closer to me, time pushes her away.

Such a day, such a longing, night in eternity… I long for her. Does she understand my need? I remain unchanged.

I want her to be my wife, to be mine always, with me forever. I dream of a day when I am more of a man for her, a husband. I dream of a day when that I need most from her is no longer threatened by that which calls me most. The warmth of her flesh surpasses the physical, which is, in itself, a stunning concept. Her warmth is all I crave; nothing less than the burning of our flesh together will ease the thoughts that sear me and release me from this torment.

My need becomes my umbra and my mind hides in its shade. Lurking here in the darkness, can I be the man of which she dreams?

Of what does she dream? In all the nights I've lain beside her or watched her across the room, she is as mysterious as ever. I once believed giving witness to her restless somniloquy would afford me a greater understanding of the scope of her desires, but I stand outside still, watching, waiting. Her mute mind still confounds me even now, when I know her so well and know so much more of myself.

What good is self-knowledge in absence of your lover's perception? I can't understand how Alice loves Jasper, or Jasper loves Alice… I've seen their thoughts, both of them, and I can confirm that the contours of their love fit together as lock and key; the same is true for Carlisle and Esme, Rosalie and Emmett. I am the witness to their love; I can attest to their match. Where is my witness? There are none that know Bella's mind, save Bella.

She loves me, of this I'm certain. Though I cannot hear the tenor of her thoughts or attest the purity of her commitment to me, I am confirmed of her desire for me in her heartbeat, the commitment to me in her action. Does she love me for the freedom from time that waits in the vampire's kiss? Does she love me for some imagined prize of life eternal? Would she love Carlisle, Emmett, Jasper if they would but promise her eternity?

Why does she reject marriage? Why would she reject marriage? Husband, monster, villain; does the rejection lie within these words, or should I point that rejection more accursedly at my being, me?

I do not want to believe this. Although I cannot read her mind, I cannot believe such a vile heart beats in her chest. That is impossible. Yet, I cannot rob her of her time, of her life, nor can I stop time for her. I simply don't understand. Musing here provides no answers.

The truth be told, I am at my core more of a monster than she ever suspects. My choice was ripped from me – so be it. The flow of time brought Bella out of its depths, and presented a dream of desire in flesh before me, as if in compensation for the lack of choice. Bella must never make this deal with time. It must be her choice. Knowing this, I would have Bella immortal with my next breath if I could. Base, greedy, hungry – yes, that creature stirs inside me as I consider my need.

I crave her touch on my skin, her scent in my mind, her warmth in my cold, dead heart. And the erratic throbbing of her heart as we embrace tells no lie; she craves me, too.

As we delay, as we resolve these roadblocks, time steals from her, steals her from me, and, robber that it is, it shall never return.