This unseasonable cold chills me to the bone. We are all guilty. We are all worthy of punishment. Who knows if we shall be forgiven?
Rini, my beautiful Serena, is devastated. She won't eat, won't drink except to take "something for the pain", both wans to sleep and doesn't want to sleep.
Yes, I'm rather cross with Faustus. He let a good thing go. Nathaniel is a foolish boy acting the way foolish boys do. Trent was passive when he should have asserted himself, and aggressive when he should have left well enough alone.
There may be a glimmer of hope yet. Rini hasn't completely lost the will to live. She just wants to hibernate, but can't seem to get to sleep. She misses her vampire, both the monster she fell in love with and the man he was becoming. Certainly I could command him to come back, but he wouldn't quite be himself. He'd be different, unsatisfactory. And more importantly, if/when he came back to himself, he would be furious. Best to let things lie. I'm not even certain we should make these thoughts of ours known. It does look an awful lot like we're wallowing, doesn't it?
We've all taken a mighty hit. Not to our pride, surprisingly enough, but to our hearts. We all hope it will blow over in a few days. In the meantime, we can share our memories, welcome new modes of some old friends, write letters to our loved ones that we may never send. We have some unfinished projects to attend to as well, and there will be no dying until those are complete. Depression must be replaced with diligence. We shall rest for now. Perhaps we shall dream of our loved ones. Will we write them down? Perhaps. Share them? Perhaps not.
Is it the end of an era, or is there hope yet to come?
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