A/N: So, I'm back after a year – terribly sorry but school definitely rules my life. I spend sometimes 80+ hours a week in studio (no exaggeration), so I really don't have time to sleep, I once didn't eat for 6 days – as such I just don't have time to write, even if I want to do so. I don't know how I feel about this one, but since these are really just practice for me, I decided to finish it and put it up anyway. Thanks so much though for reviewing broken-fallen-angel-soul, HungryLikeTheWolf19, and Sarah. I really do appreciate every single review I get.
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, not I.
085. Sink –
I used to wonder if there would ever be enough time in the world for me to understand him, but I now know the answer. I am afraid I will never find myself when I come out of this – I am for certain that I will not be the same person. He filled a void within me that I never knew I had – a black hole that never seemed to have enough light to make itself really known. He came along as this beautifully crafted star, one whose internal fire flared so brightly that I was caught immediately. His gaze only served to attract me like gravity, a gorgeous gravity.
I just wanted to sink in it all.
His manner was so strange that day – so distant that I could have stood on Pluto and felt more warmth. I have never felt so cold in my life, even after moving to here from my sunny oasis. I have never felt so alone.
I am sinking too fast to ever catch a breath of air again I fear.
I do not know that I could have really taken a proper good-bye though – he was too much my source – I relied on him so much for what he me, and the black hole that exists inside me. I have never felt so keenly that black hole – I do not really know if I knew it existed until then, but I am sure it has been there. That black hole is growing now – I feel it take me over cell by cell. I feel only a shadow of myself as I mechanically live my life, or whatever life is at this point. It is a bunch of meaningless actions that I must perform when all I really want to do is crawl inside myself and sink deeper and deeper into the hole until it swallows me whole. I don't even have the glimmer of him left – he took away any physical memento, any stardust with which I could run my fingers through.
If only he had sunk his teeth in that night…
I do not think I will ever understand him, even if I was allowed more time with him. The paradox of his cold warmth, his shining darkness, and his satisfied hunger – I want to stop thinking about him but I cannot. I want to stop dreaming about him, but I cannot. I wish sometimes that it really was as he said – like he never existed – but it is only for a millisecond. It was too good, too intriguing, too invigorating; I have never felt so alive.
I wish I could sink only into memories and never come out.
I am afraid I will never stop sinking. I am afraid I will never stop thinking about him every second. I am afraid I will stop dreaming. I am afraid I will never come out. I am afraid the basin is too steep for me to climb alone, and the drain is far too attractive to let me loose.
This sink is too big even for stardust to clog up. I am going to need a star.