Post by Edward Cullen on Feb 18, 2013 8:54:31 GMT -5
Edward Cullen tried to ignore the omnipresent feeling of deja vu that now peppered his life. It wasn't as though he had other things to think about. He continued to run swiftly towards the car, this time he disregarded his surroundings. The trees and ground melded together in a earthy blur as he sped past them. He followed the trail he had created loosely straying towards either side to lengthen his journey. Edward wasn't used to this constant travelling. True, when it had been just Carlisle and himself they had traveled for great distances stopping rarely and briefly. But over the past few decades as their small coven had continued to grow they found it simpler to stay in one place. It wasn't that they resented moving, it made no difference, to himself at least. However it indicated a certain tameness about us. The Cullen's were not the typical nomads. They chose to embrace our existence and life the personas they had created for themselves. They enjoyed some regularity, it made them feel more humane.
Edward pushed the thoughts out of his head, maybe he would stop later. Maybe. It wasn't as though he needed to sleep or take a shower. He hadn't released body fluids for over a century, dirt was only superficial and could be dusted off. What would he do, read? He wasn't able to concentrate on a thought process let alone a novel. Once again he released all frivolous thoughts from his head. He focused on the nagging doubt that had been itching him from the moment he reached the end of Victoria's trail. It was easier in fact to ignore the repeated sense of loss, the feeling that he had failed. Edward simply was not used to this. Perhaps he was acquainted the continual feeling of moving. After all an eternity was quite a long time to stay in one place. But it was this emotion of losing that was unfamiliar. The idea that he would reach a place only to realize what he was searching for had already left.
It felt quite like he was a blind man clutching weakly at air, calling out for something that was long gone. He sighed. Hunting was not supposed to be this difficult. Searching, apparently, was. It was as though he was continually driving or running. Though, he supposed that it was good. Edward found it was easier, if only a modicum, if he was engaged to put away the feelings that bombarded him. He was a fool to think that this would be possible. Not the hunting of Victoria, that would be only too easy. But,this. This endless agony that would have killed any mortal or immortal with one ounce less of willpower than he had. Amid the millions of words that he had gathered over the years there was no single word that could describe what he was going through.
Perhaps he would have to use his own hapax legomenon, a word used only once in the written record of language. Of course this word would only occur once. He doubted that anyone, human, immortal or otherwise would have experienced what he was going through. Maybe she, Bell--no, she would not feel but a drop of the agony that was coursing through his body. It was not capable for two people, or one, he corrected, to feel so much pain. This cut deeper than he would have liked to admit. It only redefined and brought to his attention the never ending gap between Bella and himself. She would move on--as he wanted, he reminded myself--and he would remain. Would she ever know the depth of his love? He would give anything, even this wretched state now, to insure her safety. Edward would let that witch Jane loose on himself if it guaranteed that Bella would continue her normal human life.
Just, he winced at how short his time with her had been, a year ago he would not have done that. The flood of emotions that racked his body in the past year was inexplicable. He had felt jealousy, love, and desire in one brief period. He knew, as he had tried to deny until that moment, that staying away from Bella was torture. Edward would admit it. Previously he had denied it. He had believed that this was acceptable. That this state that he was currently in would--not diminish, for he knew it would never--only escalate over time. Edward had denied the fact that it was torture because torture referred to a pain, a secret or reason to be pained for. Though he knew this was painful, excruciatingly so, he never claimed it was torture.
This was worth the reason, the secret. Edward would suffer gladly for Bella, willingly. Love changed you in undeniable ways, this was simply one. But claiming that this pain was torture suddenly didn't seem like a tarnishing element of our love. It proved, rather, the extent of their love. It showed him that he would suffer in physical pain without her. Suddenly, he unwillingly remembered another attempt when he had tried to stay away from Bella. Though she may not have realized how much it hurt him, he had suffered during the weeks that he had ignored her. After the car accident he had promised his family never to contact her again. It wasn't right for them to get involved with the humans. That would lead to exposure which would danger not only himself but all of his family.
He owed them better. And, it was harmful to his family as well as Bella. Too much information would mean that she would, he winced, have to be destroyed. In an attempt to save her life he had forced myself never to talk to her again. It had been agony. But, he reminded myself, he didn't truly know he was in love with her then. He had been warned by Alice that he would fall in love, but he hadn't fully realized it himself. At that time he hadn't crept into her room. He hadn't heard her whisper his name through her subconsciously controlled lips, watching her dark hair flow across her pillow, seeing the moon's luminescent dance across her translucent skin. He shuddered, sobbing soundless tears. Surely it was different now? He knew he truly loved her.
Edward knew that and it fueled this now. His actions, the only reason he was gone from her side know was because of this love. Edward adored her more than she would every know, and it was for this singular reason that he had gone. He knew he wasn't good enough for her, he would never be. Surely now he wouldn't fail. Now he would have something other than sheer determination to support him. His love. Using every experience he had lived with her--for he had only really existed when with her.
It would be easier to succeed now, wouldn't it? He hadn't held her in his arms then, He hadn't danced with her, he hadn't taken her to a place that would always be sacred to her. The meadow. The sunlight doused ethereal place. A location he had created for her, a place he wanted to share with her, and her alone. He winced once more, what was he trying to do? Kill himself in anguish? Was that even possible? With that he stopped driving abruptly. It was too much to handle. He couldn't remember every touch, every motion, every expression...He slumped forward against the wheel nearly snapping it off.
He leaned over to grab his duffle bag when his fingers hit something hard. He glanced towards to the top pocket noticing the bulge there for the first time. He hadn't been too hasty while packing? He unzipped it quickly wondering what could be protruding to produced the form. There sticking out on the top of the bag was the very proof of their love. It was the green plastic lid, the memento from the first time they had truly talked. It was a souvenir, of sorts, that first discussion they had had in the cafeteria. The first time she had agreed to talk with him. His facade crumbled. He pulled the car into the woods and curled on to the ground. Then once again the allowed the pain to wash over his broken heart.
Edward pushed the thoughts out of his head, maybe he would stop later. Maybe. It wasn't as though he needed to sleep or take a shower. He hadn't released body fluids for over a century, dirt was only superficial and could be dusted off. What would he do, read? He wasn't able to concentrate on a thought process let alone a novel. Once again he released all frivolous thoughts from his head. He focused on the nagging doubt that had been itching him from the moment he reached the end of Victoria's trail. It was easier in fact to ignore the repeated sense of loss, the feeling that he had failed. Edward simply was not used to this. Perhaps he was acquainted the continual feeling of moving. After all an eternity was quite a long time to stay in one place. But it was this emotion of losing that was unfamiliar. The idea that he would reach a place only to realize what he was searching for had already left.
It felt quite like he was a blind man clutching weakly at air, calling out for something that was long gone. He sighed. Hunting was not supposed to be this difficult. Searching, apparently, was. It was as though he was continually driving or running. Though, he supposed that it was good. Edward found it was easier, if only a modicum, if he was engaged to put away the feelings that bombarded him. He was a fool to think that this would be possible. Not the hunting of Victoria, that would be only too easy. But,this. This endless agony that would have killed any mortal or immortal with one ounce less of willpower than he had. Amid the millions of words that he had gathered over the years there was no single word that could describe what he was going through.
Perhaps he would have to use his own hapax legomenon, a word used only once in the written record of language. Of course this word would only occur once. He doubted that anyone, human, immortal or otherwise would have experienced what he was going through. Maybe she, Bell--no, she would not feel but a drop of the agony that was coursing through his body. It was not capable for two people, or one, he corrected, to feel so much pain. This cut deeper than he would have liked to admit. It only redefined and brought to his attention the never ending gap between Bella and himself. She would move on--as he wanted, he reminded myself--and he would remain. Would she ever know the depth of his love? He would give anything, even this wretched state now, to insure her safety. Edward would let that witch Jane loose on himself if it guaranteed that Bella would continue her normal human life.
Just, he winced at how short his time with her had been, a year ago he would not have done that. The flood of emotions that racked his body in the past year was inexplicable. He had felt jealousy, love, and desire in one brief period. He knew, as he had tried to deny until that moment, that staying away from Bella was torture. Edward would admit it. Previously he had denied it. He had believed that this was acceptable. That this state that he was currently in would--not diminish, for he knew it would never--only escalate over time. Edward had denied the fact that it was torture because torture referred to a pain, a secret or reason to be pained for. Though he knew this was painful, excruciatingly so, he never claimed it was torture.
This was worth the reason, the secret. Edward would suffer gladly for Bella, willingly. Love changed you in undeniable ways, this was simply one. But claiming that this pain was torture suddenly didn't seem like a tarnishing element of our love. It proved, rather, the extent of their love. It showed him that he would suffer in physical pain without her. Suddenly, he unwillingly remembered another attempt when he had tried to stay away from Bella. Though she may not have realized how much it hurt him, he had suffered during the weeks that he had ignored her. After the car accident he had promised his family never to contact her again. It wasn't right for them to get involved with the humans. That would lead to exposure which would danger not only himself but all of his family.
He owed them better. And, it was harmful to his family as well as Bella. Too much information would mean that she would, he winced, have to be destroyed. In an attempt to save her life he had forced myself never to talk to her again. It had been agony. But, he reminded myself, he didn't truly know he was in love with her then. He had been warned by Alice that he would fall in love, but he hadn't fully realized it himself. At that time he hadn't crept into her room. He hadn't heard her whisper his name through her subconsciously controlled lips, watching her dark hair flow across her pillow, seeing the moon's luminescent dance across her translucent skin. He shuddered, sobbing soundless tears. Surely it was different now? He knew he truly loved her.
Edward knew that and it fueled this now. His actions, the only reason he was gone from her side know was because of this love. Edward adored her more than she would every know, and it was for this singular reason that he had gone. He knew he wasn't good enough for her, he would never be. Surely now he wouldn't fail. Now he would have something other than sheer determination to support him. His love. Using every experience he had lived with her--for he had only really existed when with her.
It would be easier to succeed now, wouldn't it? He hadn't held her in his arms then, He hadn't danced with her, he hadn't taken her to a place that would always be sacred to her. The meadow. The sunlight doused ethereal place. A location he had created for her, a place he wanted to share with her, and her alone. He winced once more, what was he trying to do? Kill himself in anguish? Was that even possible? With that he stopped driving abruptly. It was too much to handle. He couldn't remember every touch, every motion, every expression...He slumped forward against the wheel nearly snapping it off.
He leaned over to grab his duffle bag when his fingers hit something hard. He glanced towards to the top pocket noticing the bulge there for the first time. He hadn't been too hasty while packing? He unzipped it quickly wondering what could be protruding to produced the form. There sticking out on the top of the bag was the very proof of their love. It was the green plastic lid, the memento from the first time they had truly talked. It was a souvenir, of sorts, that first discussion they had had in the cafeteria. The first time she had agreed to talk with him. His facade crumbled. He pulled the car into the woods and curled on to the ground. Then once again the allowed the pain to wash over his broken heart.
