Lisa Martin

I should have known better. What the hell was I thinking? That I could solve everything just like that? I feel reluctant to admit it, but yes, that's what I thought.

Feeling lonely is not a novel concept to me. I'm living with it every day, the kind of loneliness that somehow sets you aside from others. I am different, I know that, have known that for centuries. I can live with it, I have to and most of the time it's not that difficult. I have friends, some who are like me and others who aren't. I value them both, make no difference between them.

No, that's not entirely true. (If I'm going to do some soul searching, I'd better be honest). I tend to treat the ones that are not like me differently, more protective. Their time is limited, and the need to keep them safe is stronger.

Feeling lonely….I have never felt so lonely as I did last night, not even when my father turned his back on me or when Tessa died. This is another kind of loneliness. It leaves me paralyzed, totally strung out.

I was so sure of myself, so sure that I found what I had been looking for. The most amazing of it all is that it still is that. That feeling hasn't changed, if anything it has become stronger. I just went about it the wrong way.

Last night was glorious, there is no other word for it, but there was something missing, something I had thought I would find at last.

The strange thing is that I had no expectations when I found him here, lying on the couch. Turning up unexpectedly, but I've become used to that. Yet there was a thrill, a sudden tingling inside me, telling me that if I didn't act now, I would never do it.

In the end, it went smoothly. Well, smoother than I had anticipated. No real objections, no fight, no sarcastic comments. I lost myself in him, giving everything I had to give.

And now I'm sitting here, realizing that I gave everything, but got little back. It's a hard truth, but a truth none the less. It crushes me, and yet it doesn't really surprise me. How many others have there been before me? It can't even bear to think about that. What made me believe I was special enough to get whole of him? In my mind, I can see him shaking his head in reaction to that thought, that bemused smile on his face and he is right this time. What kind of fool have I been? A lovesick fool, a romantic, lovesick fool.

But I don't want to give up; I want to find that place where I can live. I don't care if it is only a tiny corner of his heart, I want to be there, claim it for myself. It's the only way that I can live now. My way to survive.

A voice, soft and low, rouses me from my thoughts. I see him standing before me, a trace of worry in those incredible eyes. I smile up at him, but it doesn't reassure me. He crouches down, meeting my eyes. Then he smiles too, not a wry smile, or a mocking one, but one full of understanding. I feel his hand against my cheek and the whispered words I hear are making the misery fade.

"For the first time in centuries, love does not hurt."

And I know. I have my place in his heart.

END

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