no forwarding address

This letter is written.

Then this letter is burnt.

--

Darlingest Ist,

How hard it is to write when I have no address and I know you will never reply to this letter. When I know with almost complete certainty that you will never send another, but I am still bludgeoned by desire to speak with you and lay my thoughts out for you. I can't speak with you so I guess at you will do. 

Why oh why didn't you just stay in your frozen city? What did you hope to gain from Denver, of all the nights to come here, why now? You must have a reason that is more than clear air open space Viol you do well here why should I not do well. How could you make arrangements to come and not be prepared to lose everything but your self and still continue on? Do you know how I miss you?

It is the vitae -- it is in part the vitae. I want to be where I think you'll be but I don't know where you are and I don't know how to find you. I don't know where to go but something in me demands I go. Do you know how that is? I crave nearness. But the vitae is only one part. I like you. I like making time with you. Because you indulge me? Because you surprise me. Because your mind is alien but -- I thought we could have fun. I thought we could have fun for a good long while.

Why oh why did you take from D what I offered freely? Why when he stayed his hand and I was between you? Of who were you thinking? Of what? Perhaps I could still have brought you out of that place! I think I could have if. Petit rénard, you know that I never want to be a Tyrant I never want authority to abuse never want to thieve from any other their freedom or enslave their spirits, but you chose, you chose, it was your choice and your will that chained you to me -- and why couldn't I use it? I'd never have used it. But shouldn't you have been able to climb it out of the fucking darkness -- climb it to me and then be free again? I have no use for chains -- but that was a use! I tried to show you -- but it didn't -- so, you see, I would have been a tyrant but that you

I'm sorry.

The thought that you must feel I abandoned you is like daybreak; I want to sleep; or it will hurt -- immolation, how silly to write and how silly to read (but you will never read this) and yet how much sillier and more terrible it is to feel it to bear it. Don't they you know everybody don't they say that unbearable things are the worst? I disagree because at least an unbearable thing dissolves you -- you don't feel it.

Ván, I'm sorry I will never love you. I think that if I could have I would have eventually. Do you know how it feels to be looked at as you looked at me? Touched as you touched me? It is difficult to resist loving what loves us, I think, at least a little. Would you click your tongue at me if I said as much? Say something like oh 'but surely you have no lack of paramours' -- you'd try that word on for size, wouldn't you? -- 'and will not miss one? Surely you know what it is to be so looked at.' I bet you would -- or smile in that automatic way you have which tells me nothing. I have had mortal men and women look at me as you look at me but isn't it useless? Isn't it just the simplest thing? They know knew pretending, you looked at and touched me when I was divested of costume. 

Even before our agreement, I liked how you looked at and how you touched me. 

Dear, you are such a fool. Be a fool who doesn't wake. Can you do that, if not for me, for yourself? Stay in torpor, stay where you cannot be compelled or changed or troubled, until I guess the night comes they grow impatient and drain you of your soul and there is no 'you' and perhaps it is as if there never was or until. Do you understand why it is I don't know what to do? I can bear it but I do not choose to bear it without trying to change it. 

I know you are extant. If I do nothing with that knowing, if I just wait until I do not long for you, then I have allowed myself to yield, to be the nothing [scribble scribble], I have settled & accepted having my hand on this possible fate of yours, and I do not accept it and I do not appreciate being forced to. Tu devians responsable pour toujours de ce que tu a apprivoisé. 

To spare you -- should I have ended you? Would you have ended me if the roles were reassigned? But I mean to live. Did you? I am faster than D. My knife wasn't meant for either of you but it was under my jacket -- I could have tried, but I didn't think to do it. Killing you is not an urge I have I do not think it and I don't want to be the hand that cuts your life because I don't want any hand to cut your life but

I don't know what to do with this. I don't know where to find you and it is ridiculous that I am writing you this letter that you will never read or respond to or even think of. 

I wonder if you think I chose D over you? You are a fool if you think so but haven't we established unquestionably your history of foolishness? Dare agree with me and I will do nothing because you will never agree or disagree again with anything I express, but I would slap you. Did you think it? Don't. 

Why oh why oh why why why couldn't you hear what he was offering? How fortunate you were? A Lasombra in a city under siege, but he offered a private peace. Maybe we should have played games with knives so you'd not have been so overthrown by pain but pain isn't a thing I want to wield for fun. Even if you didn't want what we offered couldn't you have tried to pretend? Even if you thought it just a trick couldn't you have tried to turn the trick to your advantage? I think you two would have worked well together -- though you are very alike. He was earnest in his desire to try. Wasn't he? If he wasn't, what was that scene? It may not seem like it considering but I could not be C's childe without learning to have a sense of my relative worth and fooling me is not worth such a grandiose and potentially risky play; he already had my good graces. And why would he want to show me this? What favors will it do? He might reasonably expect me to be quite vengeful, and I am, though not against him. I wish that I were; then I would feel more to a purpose and know what to do.

That's enough of him in this letter. You probably would not care to know what I think about D.

I am lonely for you. I think I will be lonely for you a very long time, until I forget how to be lonely, and that isn't something we forget, is it? I hope you know it. If you do wake. When you do wake. I hope you know that I am lonely for you, and it hurts you knowing that it is entirely your fault.

The last thing you said was [big blotch, pen-nib pressed down] that you have nothing now. And no one. A warehouse and a ghoul gone, and you have nothing and no one. Surely you would understand that I will not allow you to be proven right? If I can find you I will try to recover you. I will send your clan for you or I will send you a different end. I will try.

I'm a fool, too, you see. It is not the vitae, it is upbringing and the way my spirit cants and that I like you. I was going to use you, quite thoroughly, but wouldn't it have been so much fun. And you were using me already, weren't you? Why did you come to this city? I want you to tell me an answer that makes sense. I want to write you forever and think that you will read what I say and respond. I want to think you will think of me, but I do not think you will.

I want you. How much plainer did I need to be in that rail car? I want you. What else can I say? Stay asleep.

xoxo

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