I saw Her in the Moon, felt Her in the stars. As night fell each evening, a smothering cocoon of darkness pulling me beneath its obsidian comforts, I took a deep breath and dived into immortality. Every night the same. Every night unwanted.
The bane of forever weighed heavy on my heart. I sought death with the same determination as a seed the light, courted it even. Courage, however, was a trait I lacked, and although a smiling blade would have returned me there, another’s, or my own, the trickle of life running through me refused to succumb. Pathetic, I know, but the truth.
Fate was a fickle mistress. One moment she taunted, next, cheered, leaving the fated to surf her undulating waves alone. My fate began the day She turned me. Only She could ever take that fate away.
I stood on the cliff overlooking the ocean as I was wont to do. The undulating Atlantic soothed my soul, so to speak, and eased my torrid thoughts. I often imagined my lover in those unblemished vistas: Her skin, the polished waters; Her smile, the changeable horizon; Her eyes, the moon and its reflection. A step would have ended my pain. Even I could not have survived the plummet. She knew it. She wanted it.
Her voice came as a midwinter whisper, a tickled goodbye in my ear. I turned, stumbled, fell.
There was no pain, no hurt, no kiss of jagged rocks on ancient flesh, only an impaled farewell.
I died with a smile on my face and Her laughter written across my soul. I didn’t care; it’s what I wanted. It’s what She wanted too, but for different reasons.