I can feel the mystery man's eyes on me like two lasers attempting to burn right through me. I finally reach my porch and as I search my key chain to find the correct key I realize my palms are clammy and my hands a bit shaky. I swallow hard past the lump that has since formed in my throat and enter the key into the lock.

"Elena?" His voice falters, laced with weariness and uncertainty.

I feel a surge shoot down my spine followed by a tingling sensation that lingers at the base of my neck. I know that voice. I hear it in my blissful dreams and my frightening nightmares. It's him. No matter how many years since I'd heard it last, I could never forget that voice. His voice is pure velvet playing over and over as the meaning behind this slowly begins to resonate with me. I feel the pull. Strong, near unyielding. I exhale deeply and slowly crane my neck toward my ultimate undoing.

My eyes immediately lock with his. God, are they piercing. Two glistening pools of blue, so mysterious but it's lovely. I feel the seconds slowly ticking away, though by now it feels as though I've been standing here for an eternity. I open my mouth to speak, but I don't dare utter a word. What is there I can possibly say in this moment? I feel as though I'm staring into eyes of a ghost from my past. And in a way, I am.

Swinging open the front door, Elena emerged from the Larson residence with a expression of panic overcoming her face. "Oh, there you are!" She exclaimed relieved that, finally, after much searching she found her brother Jeremy out on their front porch.

"Uh, here I am?" He said, not masking his confusion at all. A nonchalant chuckle bellowed out from her lips as she shrugged her shoulders. "I just worry that's all."

She took a seat now next to her brother who was working on a paper in deep concentration. Grabbing her diary from below the seat's cushion she placed it on the table and began to write. Elena wrote about everything; it was her way of remembering, so she could also forget. She thought that if she wrote down her thoughts, she would no longer have to bear them. But the burden was still there; it was always there. It was a dark cloud that loomed over her. Elena hoped she would find happiness again someday; she just wasn't entirely sure when that would be.

Looking up from her drabbles she cocked her head, biting the inside of her lower lip. "Hey Jere, do you thin-" Quickly her attention was diverted away from her brother who sat in front of her, to the Salvatore home. Elena narrowed her eyes, trying to focus on the figure who stood by the doorway. It was Damon's father, hastily packing boxes away into his car. Her eyes flickered back toward her brother's whose curiosity was now peaked as well. "What do you think that's about?" She asked rhetorically, genuine curiosity lacing her words. Jeremy merely shrugged, pulling his lips up into a half smile. "I don't know El, maybe he's moving out." Elena scoffed at the thought; she let out a giggle though her fear ultimately showed through; it wasn't her normal carefree giggle that she'd had when she was with Damon.

Damon stood at the door, holding one single box. He looked devastated, a look she had never seen on her friend in all the years they'd known each other. Worry crept over Elena's face.

Her eyes held hope as she waited for him to look up toward her.

But he never did.

Her best friend got into the front seat of his father's car, and moments later it was reversing from their driveway. She watched the car fade into a small speck out in the distance, never once getting the satisfaction of even a fleeting glance.

Elena sat up weeks after that day, peeking out of her bedroom's second-floor window. Nothing, not a stir in the Salvatore house. It seemed too still, as though the world was frozen in time. Frozen in time at the last sight of his taillights. Weeks passed, months, years. If only she'd known that would be the last time she would see him. Would things have happened any differently?

Well, here he is. All these years spent wondering about him; all the unanswered questions. Is he happy? Does he ever think of me? Does he regret that he left and never said goodbye? Is it hard to face me right now?

Before I realize I've been silently at war with my own thoughts I see him begin to close the gap between the two of us.

Oh, God.

He's less than a yard away from me and my thoughts have become nothing but a painfully blaring silence. Any sense of composure is now gone for good; I can barely even keep my breathing steady. I fight the urge to break down right here and now. Part of me wants to run right into his arms and give him the type of hug that makes up for nine years. Though the other part of me wants to shove him and retreat to the sanctity of my home. Ironic, huh? My home considered the less painful option.

"H-how have you been?" His words wrap around me and I begin to process the loaded question.

How have I been? Horrible, miserable, broken entirely.

"I've been okay." My voice deceives me and I look down to avoid his knowing eyes.

"That's good to hear. You know I really wasn't expecting to see you here."

Of course you weren't. Who in their right mind would stay? My abusive, alcoholic father stole from me the only one who's truly loved me my entire life. My best and only friend left me without even the dignity of a goodbye. My mother's sister came to watch after me and my brother, a constant reminder of the worst loss a child could endure.

"Yeah. I'm right here where you left me." My words drip with disdain, and I realize that there's no masking my emotions. I've bottled up these very emotions for nine years, wondering if this day would ever come.

Here it is.

"Elena, I have always regretted not saying goodbye to you. To this day I regret it. You know how much you meant to me."

"You know, if I meant so much to you, why didn't you call? Why did you just leave me here to rot?"

"I just- I didn't know what to possibly say. As more time passed I struggled to find the words for an apology to justify what I did to you."

"Who are you trying to convince, Damon? You come back after all these years and what do you expect? For me to just cry on your shoulder and tell you how everything's all better? Well fuck you, Damon; nothing is all better. Nothing ever gets better."

I feel tears sting my eyes and I make the conscious decision not to hold them back anymore. Tears begin to fall in earnest now as low sobs escape me. I quickly turn away from Damon and reach for the doorknob.

I can't do this. No matter how many years I've had to prepare myself for this moment, I'm still not ready to face him.

He grabs my wrist and I turn my head around to meet his gaze. His eyes are pleading. His eyebrows come together, forming rough creases on his forehead.

"Elena, please. You have to let me explain... Please."

He doesn't deserve the satisfaction of whatever sort of explanation he has to give me but something in his icy blue eyes convinces me otherwise. I turn back toward the front door and turn the handle slowly, stepping inside. I look back at Damon, and when I do the pain in his eyes shocks me.

"Come in."

I really hope you all enjoy this chapter! Drop me a line and let me know what you think so far- it really brightens my day to hear from all of you! Also- a special thanks to Kim (kimbuhlay) for editing this one I really appreciate your help. :)

Alyssa