May 15, 2015
I had forgotten that I was supposed to be writing in you.
I tucked you away under my mattress and completely disregarded your existence until Salem decided it was time for me to put my thoughts into order. It must be desperate times when that cat will lift his grotesquely fat *** off the chair. He usually just sits there and stares at me with a glare that would wither a weaker person.
When he retrieved you from your hiding place, I thought about tossing you. You have done nothing for me so far, and I still cannot fathom why anyone would think writing in a journal like some love-sick teenager will benefit the intellectual, but I couldn't bring myself to. I'm not sure if it was that one entry that spoke volumes of my psyche, or if it's simply because I need someone to vent my frustrations to. All I know is I have grown to act as if you are actually something of importance that deserves my time and commitment.
We'll see how this lasts.
Either way, I haven't written in you in a while, so clearly you weren't as therapeutic as you were supposed to be - or I lacked the attention span to keep up with you. You haven't missed much, really.
Micah, despite my independence, has helped me a lot. I'm reluctant to admit that I might have feelings for him. No, not those thigh quivering, heart fluttering, childish 'take me now' feelings. The kind of feelings where I dare anyone to **** with him while I'm around. The kind of feelings I haven't felt since my mother passed, like there is someone out there that I can connect with on a deeper level that isn't sex and romance. It's good to know there's someone out there that doesn't want to **** me just to go home and say they banged the weird goth chick.
Though, as my mother always said 'with the good, comes the bad.' The bad in this case, being his wife. I get her issues, I do. I have to deal with Osiris and his desire to rip the throat out of anyone who comes within in a fifty foot radius of me, but even he has the decency to back the **** off when it comes to our sire. I sometimes believe that it has nothing to do with jealousy, but insecurity. I watch how she clings to him like a wet blanket, and snarls like a rabid dog when anyone of the female persuasion moves towards him, like she fears he's going to abandon her.
She's supposed to be regarded as some strong leader, but anytime I see her, all I see is a adolescent little girl afraid that her prom date is shoving it to the next hot piece of ***. However, I've decided she's not worth my time or my effort in befriending her. She continues to make remarks whenever I say something in regards to Micah, and I overlook them. If she makes a catty remark to me in public, I will tune her out.
The high road is a place I'm not familiar with, but in order to keep my relationship strong with my sire, I will learn the navigate it. If it becomes too much, I'll just write it all down in here.
Enough of that.
There was something today, a fracture. I don't recall what set me out to find it, but when I did, I was nearly brought to my knees. The power that resided inside beckoned me closer, and I felt as if I could take on the world, if only I were to touch it. Of course, Micah being the fat pain in the *** that he is, has filled my head with more than just giving in to my lust and greed for knowledge.
Instead, he was that nagging little angel that twittered about in my ear until I simply opted to seal the thing. I felt bereft without the darkness inside, but I think he might have saved me from myself. Not that I will ever allow him to know. He might never allow me to live it down.
I think I've written all I care to for the time being. I'll try not to forget about you this time, but I can't make promises.
-R.G.H.