and holding them close, and holding them tight

July 27, 2010

Dear Bill

Gran

Bill

I should write in this diary more often. Sometimes, it's like I'm just running through a tunnel and hardly even notice I've moved until the scenery changes suddenly. Drastically. I look at the way I wrote a month ago, two months ago, and it's hard to remember exactly how I came to be standing here, in this very spot. Things aren't the way they were when I left Bon Temps. I'm no longer that person. I said something a little while back, when I was talking to Mitchell, about the fact that I haven't just had Eric's blood. I've had Bill's blood, too. And I think it's different, I think that what Eric did is despicable, and I don't think I'll ever forgive him for that. But if you think about it, Eric's blood already did so much that I wonder, with Bill... I've had his blood many more times. What might that have done to me?

How much of that all was real?

I hate doubting him like this. I hate it, because sometimes I still miss him so much that I don't know what to do with myself. When I was out there in the jungle, I thought about him, the fact that back home I wouldn't even be stuck anywhere like that for ten minutes after dark. It's like there's this hole that's been ripped into my heart and there isn't anything I can do to fill it up. What I'm trying to do is just get used to it. There's no point in hanging my hat just because a man isn't here — what kind of fool would I be to be that attached? A fool in love.

It's been crazy. The island magically swept me away to the dinosaur territory. I saw one with my own eyes, tried to help fend it off. I found Jenny and a man named Rory in short order, so I wasn't alone, and yet at the same time I felt like I was, at times. Like I could've just ended up getting killed out there, and the people I love most — it's ridiculous.

I'm safe now, though. I think I terrified Jason a great deal. Even Mitchell, too. I'm running a fever now and Rory seemed to know that I was coming down with a bit of hypothermia. The weather's getting all lovely again, but I can't even go out so much to enjoy it. All I can do is feel weak and wear the surgical mask I found in the clothes box and hope that I don't get anyone else sick. It was terrifying, though. I don't want to admit to it, but it was. No matter how ridiculous the idea is, there are some people I just want to see again, so that they know that — we don't leave things up in the air in a way that might be later regretted. Probably most by me. Cal is

How can you fight a force so arbitrary and completely untraceable?

Part of me (and the rest is fighting against this impulse like it's the weakest part of myself) wishes Mitchell would just hang on and never let go. Never let me be alone like that again. What I need to figure out is if that's because I want him. I think I do. I know that I really, really like him. I just don't know what it might be beyond that.

Fortunately, he's patient.

Once I get better and out of the clinic, I think I'll get my own place.