Distressed Intent

[Cristiana]

As she sat with the notepad and black inked filled pen writing on the paper she tried to recall everything. It all seemed so vague, a distant memory or dream like state she couldn't awaken from. Even now as her stomach rumbled in pain she couldn't think as to why or worse how she became here. The cloud never lifted, nothing unravelled itself. Oh but the dreams when she did sleep were the sweetest...

I dremt again last night. I was far away from this strange city, these new scents. Every twist and turn in the dream seemed so real. There was a thick forest and moss carpet bed where I sat. Arms enveloped around me but the face never cleared. I felt loved, safe. Even in the midst of it all I was never frightened of who I was with or where I was. A confidence I don't seem to have when I am awake.
On the forest floor he holds me telling me everything will be okay, we will be together for all eternity. That I was meant for him. Long strands of blue black hair fall over my shoulder, but here my hair is short so it is all his. Here his arms enfold around me protectively. Yet, I cannot recall who he is. He speaks of our children... though I checked while away.. I could never have bore a child from my own womb. No scars exist. Wishfulled dreams, petty dreams of luxeries not near possession of mine. Far out of grasp. His words sooth, but nothing is as soothing as his voice. The dream man.
We sit there till the sun threats to break in the horizon. Then he whisks me away to a house... home. A large brick laid home on an urbanized street. The house looks to have been expanded upon from the layout. A layout I know, remember, till I awake. Then it all disapates into nothing. Just a dream, perhaps wish deep down inside. Though I do not recall much, children never seemed a part of the wish.
We stop at the first door on the landing, peek inside and two little boys lay sound asleep in bed. Names? He says their name... but ... I .... cannot... remember. We nod, even though I cannot recall one line of features on his face, we look to each other and nod, speaking quietly about how precious they are and we two are to each other. Then... we move on. Semi across the hall, a den or office area, we head inside. I know there is work to be done. Piles of paperwork sit at the edge of the desk tucked into nice neat manilla envelopes. This is browsed but never delved into. We cast it aside to sit on a chair and talk more... of family, mother, father... but I get from the dreams the relationship is strained. He doesn't speak ill of them, but the stress in his voice of seeing them, I must make him happy again. So a kiss, so delicate and chaste becomes hungered. The fires are fueled for mere moments before we part, me up off his lap even when I wasn't quite certain I could stand on my own two feet. The knocking knees threaten to give way under me. He takes my hand to pull me back when I see the ring on my finger. It looks like any ring, wedding, except the symbol you see inside. When it is examined close enough, there is a picture inside.
The twist of the dream, of this writings, is the ring is on my finger while my eyes lay open. Memories of what was? Perhaps what could never be again. I wouldn't recall my own name if I hadn't see the photo idenification in my pocket. I have so few items, but the ring is one. I have not had the heart to remove it. Now so many questions remain where there had once been answers. Most important was ... who am I?

She laid the pen down, tucked away another page. It was time to sleep, no one cared that she was resting her eyes so much here. To dream... again... even if the dreams only caused her to be distressed while she was awake. No one here cared like they had in the dream. Silently she knew as she tucked her ringed hand close to her body, she only needed to dream to find what she needed. Only needed to rest her eyes to find all her heart desired for... if only. The ring would never be moved, be removed.. it was the one thing she held onto. Dreams that will never more be a reality... but still the sweetest by far.

No one in their right mind could blame her for wanting to sleep. Tucked away into a corner of Skyler's apartment, her sire.. the first person she ran into when she had opened her eyes to find herself in this strange town. No one could blame her for wanting, yearning for those dreams to be real. No, no one would disturb her.

She scanned back a few pages before she closed her eyes.

The pain of opening my eyes that night caused my head to throb harder. I rose from the concrete ground holding my head unsure of where I was, who I was. I tallied all I had on me. Clothes, luck be on my side for that, a nice pair of pressed slacks companied with a chemise and blazer. All well put together. I had little jewelry on, a necklace and ring. All else ... gone. My wrists tingled like i should have been wearing a bracelet but it was removed. I opened my eyes for the throbbing to spread from my temples to spine. A slow constant pounding that seemed to cause the vision to blur. those few first steps were nothing more then stumbles along the ridge of the wall. A hand held up the wall or used the wall to hold me up while the other crossed over my stomach. Pain shot through the body yet.. no signs of harm to such extremes to cause that type of pain. Once more, stumbled. A face asking if I was ok or drunk... I don't recall how Skyler found me, or what possessed him to turn me. It was then the pain in my stomach faded, like I was meant to be turned. For that and to him I was grateful. Now I sit in his apartment wondering how it was I got here, but at least here was out of the sun. The sting still was healing but the memory of that wouldn't fade.

Until she read that, the memories had faded. A soft huff came from her mouth, forced. If she hadn't stayed within the apartment, would she remember who the man who turned her was? .... or was the pain such a memory that it could be forgotten easily. So many forgotten memories...

Now she laid on the floor with the notepad tucked in her arms. Heavy eyes drifted closed. Another dream beckoned her, called to her. Those dreams that caused the longing for more, more uncertainty...

[Cristiana]

If this isn't about redemption, and it's not about past fears.
I hope this isn't a contradiction, I hope you don’t shed any tears...

Here I am.

Watch me walk down this road, and never come again, and don't you know.
I did everything for your heart to mend, but your still broken, and have a long long way to go.

If you want to talk about classification, Am I something more or just a friend?
Excuse me for my frustration, but where do we go when it ends.

Here I am.

Watch me walk down this road, and never come again, and don't you know.
I did everything for your heart to mend, but your still broken, and have a long long way to go.

When we're alone I'm always fighting your past,
Memories take control,
You can't let it take the last of your soul.

[Cristiana]

There was never a time she’d thought, fathomed, that she would feel more pain than having to end the relationship. It may have looked like it hadn’t phased her but those closest knew it tore her apart. The question remained of which relationship she thought of. A mixture of all. There was someone who was family, maybe not by the blood that lay under the pale flesh but it was a more important family. One of the hearts. By chance she could have been thinking of her son, but there was a part of her that had already forgiven her son. Forgiven him that very night, but had to prove her point and wait for him to return for to her. When that day came, they would speak again and refurbish those lost bonds. Or maybe she thought of the broken relationship of love. She had been head over heels in love with him, wanted so much more of his heart then she’d ever felt he’d given to her. The more he torments her, the colder she grows toward him. A problem that would have been so easily solved with his arms wrapping around her, whispering words of apologies and love. That day never came.

These were not things she thought of as she sat on the white couch bleeding. It was almost beautiful in a twisted way. The fluffy whiteness of the couch reminded her of snow. Blood streamed out from previous wounds inflicted, wounds she would not let heal. The good reason was because he gave them to her. Now he wouldn’t be there to give her more, she didn’t heal them. Instead she restitched them, over and over again but those stitches kept breaking open. She sat there missing him, missing everything as it had once been. Most of all she missed what had been happiness. It seemed so far away, so far out of reach to be happy again. Every little glimmer of hope ripped away.

There were those who thought of her as a cold hearted *****, and gladly she tried to keep them at arms bay to remind them of it. So few knew she wasn’t, seen the true side of her. Oh she could be cruel; she could be downright nasty in the heat of anger. There was no anger felt toward anyone. There was little difference between right and wrong. Now her friend was dead. The one who brought that sickeningly sweet smile only he could bring to her face. Smiles, few and far between, faded as fast as they came. She sat there playing with the blood on the whiteness of the cushion. His name scribbled with the reddened tip of her finger. She was sitting there waiting, waiting for another message, another text, anything. Waiting for him to walk through the door and lay on the pool table. Waiting. And crying.

There was not much more that could be taken from her at this point. This foolhardy feeling of disappointment was one she’d grown use to by now. Day by day, she slowly became void of any form of happiness. She could paint a smile on with the best of them, but it was a mask. If she could sleep, she might sleep forever. Let the nightmares consume her. The only thing that would make this worse was the last few closest to her being ripped away. Even that was looking closer and closer to come into view. Her greatest ability, to run; run away from caring and feelings. It would be a good time to run. Say something, she screamed in her mind. Say anything. Nothing came.

[Cristiana]

The bed, instead of the couch, she’d try anything for a few minutes of sleep. A commodity that eluded her for the past few nights. The body laid on the bed but mind wandered off. Unblinking eyes stared at the ceiling, staring at the flat eggshell colored space. The whole enchilada swarmed her mind, contended to steal the last bits of sanity from this world, glasses threaten to shatter and fall to the floor. She laid there thinking of him, of them, of how people seen the two… which should have made her giggle or laugh. Laughter had faded the moment she’d seen the words he was dead on her phone.

An aberrant and curious feeling broke through her mind, like he was right there with her. Unusually her eyes closed, thought of traversing between trees, along a rustic path hiding from dangerous fae and wily beasts. In her mind she held a hand heading toward the rushing waters, behind a small gap slipping into the cavern. Since she hadn’t brought the candle with her, she flicked the Zippo she carried for cigarettes to light. The room sparkled and glowed, she whispered standing behind him “Now you know how to find me.” A place she went to think, to gather strength and patience. She could have reached out and touched him it was so vivid. “Come home.” Her thoughts whispered to him wondering if he could hear her.

She missed her friend, but she wasn’t the only one. Someone else thought this friend hated them. She watched the anger and anguish flash across his face, the hole in her wall proved it. The smallest things the two didn’t see in each other. Things she personally seen, but couldn’t get the other two to see in each other. She missed him, it was selfish that she wanted him back but she did. “Come home!” Her mind screamed for him, if she had to hire every fadewalker she would for him. Nor was she the only one who would, the blindness of the two astounded her. It is said, love is blind. Those two, with their fragile egos and nasty tempers were ticking time bombs that exploded. Without a method to reverse time, there had to be a way to smack their heads together until the two got in inside their thick skulls, to see what she seen in and from the two. She loved both, missed both and the way things had been. This fighting between them strained on all around.

Back in the cave, she stood. The lights danced like a disco off the crystallized walls. Different colored gems that jutted out of the cold stones that reminded her in the dullness of the gray stone rare gems shone through when you shone some light, it reminded her of the two of them, of the few she held precious and dear. Even with her estranged distance and self centered ways she cared, deeply for some but cared nonetheless. Come home.

[Cristiana]

The nonexistent ticker ached. As much as she wishes, he just wasn’t back. She didn’t blame either for the argument; she didn’t and wouldn’t care for either any less. What was said, words couldn’t be taken back, from either one of them. She missed her friend, was grief stricken and did her damnedest to not show it. However it did show her something. She no longer missed the ex. She hadn’t even thought of him.

The tedious task of dating seemed like a chore. Work to be invested into. Maybe when her friend came back they could go hang out and remind her why they both hated the labels. Or maybe she could take another vacation, this time alone. She missed both of the two who had argued…

[Cristiana]

I may not need you in my life, but it doesn't mean I don't want you in it.

I thought...

when he returned it would have turned out better. Of course, I know how to screw everything up. A few harsh words spoken in the heat of the moment. A back walking out the door, what more could I have expected. Another name, another driven away.


For what it's worth, I miss you and I'm sorry.

[Cristiana]

I may not need you in my life, but it doesn't mean I don't want you in it.

I want and need you in my life. It is that simple.

[Cristiana]

She sat and wrote something short and sweet.

He won't leave my mind no matter how hard I try to not think of him, every thought leads back to him.

[Cristiana]

Sitting to write, she tapped the pen top top against her chin a moment before she started writing.

Momma ho Zo isn't part of it anymore, she left. It has been coming to a boil for so many of us. She just had the courage to do what has been on so many minds for months. I came back to them but I still ask myself why? It is not worth it to be there. She was the smart one.

I can't seem to stop thinking of him. It's like he always there in the back of my mind, creeping into my thoughts. I haven't even seen him and yet, there he is on my mind. Why can't I stop thinking of him?

There is so much that needs doing. So many things on the list. Find a decorator for a a few places, some organization would me nice. It would help if I could get my mind on the right things.

Gaijin and I sat and talked about Leroy, namely my attacking him finally. It only lead down to one thing, if he acted like a decent person and treated people the way he should then it would have never happened. Gaijin knows I care, Jeze knows I care, and they know or should know that this was going to happen. I can take him treating me like he has, but when I see it done to someone else then I lose it. I have been warning for ages it was coming to this, so was anyone really shocked? I wish any one of the strikes sunk into his head that he can't treat people like this... but of course they won't. Him and his pity parties, he will betray them too. He wonders why I left, his mental moments. He wonders why I refused to get back together, I have the reminder every time I pass Beta Tower; the memories of us standing in the middle of the street screaming at each other and Micah coming to break it up. He was the lowest point of my life and the reminder why relationships will never work. Anytime I need the reminder, he is always there to remind me to never get to close, never fall in love.

So why is it I can't get that certain person off my mind? Damn it. I try so hard to close off, to be apart from things and still his image is right there like he is standing beside me, behind me, I don't know. I am losing my mind.

I haven't been working as much. Home on the couch watching t.v. or reading a book. Sweet quiet, sweet bliss. I think I am understanding why I was told not to work as much. Now to work on Alex, getting her to work less.

[Cristiana]

She sat behind the computer, staring at the screen.

That whiner! After talking with Gaijin last night, it was just another reminder that he was never the man he first presented himself to be. He is more of an allurist than I am, than all of us allurist combine. Which is sad.

It's like he knows my thoughts, when they are so strongly focused on him. Then we are sitting there talking, laughing like nothing has happened, no days have gone by where we haven't seen one another. We flow so easily together, relaxed calmed or raging, it doesn't seem to matter. But yet, my mouth remains closed.