I trusted both of you.
I was loyal to both of you.
I loved both of you.
I let both of you mark me.
And now I have to carry the scars, inside and out.
Both of you are- were selfish.
Possessive.
Arrogant.
And neither of you could even say those three fucking stupid little words. Such brave, strong, confident men. So sensitive, so caring. My fucking heroes? More like petulant five-year-olds sulking over their poor miserable lives. You've left me with nothing. How thoughtful. What a great way to prove you loved me.
Just pathetic.
I am so fucking glad to be rid of you two!
Now, stop crying about it, silly girl.
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This blog is a Chronicle of a Vampire: the Masquerade campaign written from the point of view of the characters involved.
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7 comments:
You broke me, magpie.
I hate you.
I love you.
I miss you.
I love you.
He’s gone. All those years as his plaything. All those years being overlooked. All that time waiting for a kind word, to be noticed, hating myself for loving him.
Gone.
After everything he put me through. Suffering for his affection. I should be glad he’s gone.
But I want him back.
I wanted to tell him myself. That I hated him. That I loved him. That I’m sorry I was never good enough. That I’d try harder. That I’d do anything.
I want him back.
I WANT HIM BACK!
Magpie, please, you have to come back because I need to tell you I'm sorry for being angry.
Please?
Please, let me go back... please, I didn't know what I was doing. Please please please! I'll make a choice this time, I promise I will. Just let me go back!
Someone must know how to do it.
I never gave you permission to die! How could you? You said you would do anything for me. Please magpie... please say you didn't lie about that...
Ha ha ha, you should not have placed your love in him, dear Lola.
All that you love will die, until you come to love only me. Soon there will be only me and the ones I love left. I alone am your salvation. Everyone else will be like shadows at sunrise, scurrying away from their master.
We, WE, my dear Lola, we will be family.
Can’t begin to understand what you’re going through, cupcake. We’ve all been through some pretty rough nights, some of us more than others. But I tell you something about a choice you did make. You did an about turn in a little cemetery one night and preserved my arse from some crazy Assamite bitch. After a turn like that, I’d walk through fire for you. Now, I’m no Prince Charming and I don’t have no white horse or shit but if you need anything, you speak to Uncle Tom.
You won't come back to me, magpie. So must I come to you?
Whatever stops the haunted feeling.
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