The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Yesterday, I wrote a letter to Time. I asked him why he was so selfish with himself. Why he couldn’t have given himself to me for just a little bit longer. Just long enough to fall in love with you. Because the truth is, our lives would have been so much easier if I had loved you the way you loved me. And god I wish I had. I wish I loved you with all my heart because you were good. You were selfless and gentle and beautiful and you made me so happy. But I didn’t love you. Time didn’t give me the chance to.
Yesterday I wrote a letter to Time and I asked him for enough of himself to let me become who you needed. But I can’t. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I asked you to stay even though I knew I couldn’t give you what you so desperately craved. I’m sorry I became the very first person to teach you that love can hurt worse than words can describe. I asked time for more of himself. I asked time to be gentle with you. Because you deserved it. Because you deserved the chance to have whoever you wanted and for some reason, you chose me. And I asked Time for the chance to give you what you wanted. What I wanted. What we needed. But Time is many things and generous is not one of them. Time is not gentle with people like me. Time made me harder. It made me colder. And it hurt to watch the light in my eyes die every morning in the mirror. But I continued on. Battered and bruised and bleeding I followed Time like a blind man. I followed him because he was all I had left. He was my only confidant.
Yesterday I wrote a letter to Time. I asked him to give me the chance to fall in love with you. But he said no. Time saved me from myself. Time saved you from me. Because I’m not good for you. And Time isn’t good to me. And it’s hard to admit that you can look at someone like they put the beat in your heart but still not be exactly what they need.
Yesterday I wrote a letter to Time. And Time told me that he only gives more of himself to those who truly deserve it. He gave more of himself to you. He gave you the chance to grow into the man you should be. To fall in love with yourself before anyone else. Time gave you more of himself because you are good. And you deserve it. And I know you wish that Time could have included me in his plans but the truth is that I do not deserve any more time than I have already been given. Time has been generous with me. And I haven’t always earned that generosity.
Yesterday I wrote a letter to Time and I asked him to help you fall in love with yourself. To help you grow and change and break and fly and laugh and sob and experience every beautiful and heart breaking moment that he has to offer. Because life is beautiful and painful and worth suffering for. And I’ve never wanted anything more than for you to have as much of it as possible. Even if, and maybe especially if, I’m not there to ruin it.
Yesterday I wrote a letter to Time. I asked him to promise that you would be able to live a life unburdened by your love for me. And he promised he would. This afternoon, I walked past you in the hallway and you didn’t even glance my way. You didn’t acknowledge my presence. It was like you didn’t know me at all. I could feel Time smiling down at me. And for the first time in a very long time, I smiled back.

You died on a Tuesday in September. It rained that evening. The sky was dark and the wind pulled the trees towards the ground. I know you would have laughed out loud at that because what's more cliche than funerals where the sky decides to dump water on the guests? But I don't feel like laughing today. We all stood with somber expressions and tear tracks on our cheeks. You had so many people who loved you. You know that don't you? So many lives you touched. So many smiles you created. And I know those words sound hollow but my writing hasn't been the same since you left. My words just don't flow like they used to. No string of phrases sound quite right together. My world doesn't make sense since you left. Your mom told me how much you loved me as we stood staring down at the dark blue varnish of your coffin. She told me how happy I made you. She told me how thankful she was for me. But the words gave me no comfort. Sparked no happiness in my heart. Because if I really made you that happy, why did you leave? Why didn't you stay with me? How could you do this to me? Today is your birthday and instead of holding you in my arms and watching your bright smile spread across your face I'm watching dirt piled on top of the only girl I've ever loved. Today you should have been 18 but you're not. Because you didn't trust me. Maybe you just didn't love me. But no matter the reason, you left. You didn't stay with me. You promised you would and you lied. I'm angry with you but I'm more angry with myself because what kind of person am I if I never noticed that you were hurting just as badly as I was. Maybe you're just better at hiding your pain than I ever was. Or maybe I'm not as good of a person as I would like to think. Maybe it's all my fault. Maybe if I had opened my eyes and seen the pain in yours then I wouldn't be watching rain drops on a headstone. And maybe your mother's cold hand wouldn't be wrapped around mine too tightly. And maybe I wouldn't have to watch your father's jaw clench as he tried to keep his tears from carving rivers down his cheeks. Maybe I would have told you I loved you. But now you'll never know. Because you gave up. On yourself. On me. On us. You gave up and you took away the only light I had. So now I'm just like you, Em. Is this what you wanted?