Lonely street corners…
The store windows are beginning to fill with twinkling strands of Christmas lights and glittering tinsel. Gaudy displays of commercialized holiday sentiment lends to the city a surreal quality. It adds to the loneliness that permeates the cooling concrete as the sun sinks behind the skeletons of half completed high rises that will one day house the aneorexic new wealth of this era. Earlier this evening, as soon as it was safe for me to venture out, I took a walk down to the avenue of boutiques and coffee shops near my home where the beautiful and the trendy linger in search of some sort of puesdo divinity in the shape of a tight ass in a new pair of 7 jeans. So pretty they are, their painted features and their sophisticatedly styled hair, both men and women, illuminated by the glow of the store windows by which they pass. They pay no attention to me. I am just another pale wan figure in my black overcoat and high heel boots. They are too transfixed by their own irrelevant state of being.
The sky is purple now from the ambient glow of the buzzing city beneath it. I can see it from my living room window where I sit and write this. I sometimes feel I have lived here too long, each lonely street corner harboring too many ghosts for me to bear. I have been alone a very, very long time. My last companion left years ago, desiring to travel the world and experience it in his newfound immortality just as I did centuries before. I did not want him to leave, but who am I to keep him here when I know all too well that desperate desire to take life in one’s teeth and taste it as never possible as a human. Literally and metaphorically.
I thought him long gone from my life forever, until tonight. It may very well be my own renewed desire for companionship, but I could have sworn that I caught a glimpse of him, a whiff of the perfume of his soul. It was far away, high above me upon the terrace of a loft I passed down near the park, but it caught my attention instantly, halting me immediately in my tracks. I glanced up to see a figure, a man standing there staring out over the city. He did not appear to notice me and turned away to disappear inside. Shaking my head, I tried to dismiss the moment. I can’t forget it, though, no matter how hard I try. My soul knows he’s here, in this city, somewhere and I need to see him again, if I can.
Tomorrow night, I will return to that building…
It is been a long time since I have seen her. I wanted to see the world, see what life could bring me as an immortal. However, it was not what I thought it would be — I was just as alone as I had been before she came to me that night long ago. As the novelty of travelling wore thin, I began to yearn for her touch, for her scent, for her laughter and her love. The need grew stronger and stronger until I had to find my way back to her — no matter the cost.
Sometimes I think I see her and then she is gone. I have taken many women to my bed who reminded me of her. Yet, as the willingly fed all my desires, my heart cried out for the original, not a cheap copy who wanted nothimg more than to bed a vampire.
I brushed my long black hair before going out for the evning, lost in thought. She used to love brushing my hair until gleemed like black silk. She encouraged me to wear it down, hating for it to be tied up and restrained. When we made love, she loved for it to hang over her in an inky curtain. My body ached at the memory of how she felt when she was under me.
Once again, I will go out tonight and hunt — seeking food and warmth and a respite from the memories of her. Someday, someday I will find her. Dear Mother of All of Us, let her still want me. Let her still want her Dark Knight to come and carry her home.