It's been almost a month now. After the first week of waiting for her to send me a message, calling in sick, not bothering to shower or shave, hating myself for not caring about that, and not caring anyway. I was miserable. I held the firm assertion that I had ruined what had been a wonderful, exhilarating, scary, beautiful date with the woman of my dreams, a woman who I'd met as Shadowcat313. After meeting her in person for the first time, she had divulged a great secret to me, and, as I realized soon after, she also used a talent of hers to prevent me from running away until I'd had some time to come to terms with it. Through it all, the visit to a club called Cube, and then to her home, it had been like a dream, a perfect dream. But then I had ruined the whole thing, and now I'm suffering greatly for it.
After that first week, I had no more sick time to use, so I forced myself to clean up, shave, and go back to work. It was a wonder I haven't gotten myself or someone else injured or killed, so occupied was my mind with Nickie. I somehow reached the end of the month, but was no less despondent for it. It was bad enough for my supervisor, Charlie Carrasco, to take notice.
"Hey, Gary," he called out from the front door of the small trailer on the site, "Come in here for a minute!"
I trudged into the trailer, and took a seat when it was offered.
"Gary, you in some kind of trouble or something?" he perpetually rubbed his blunt fingers through the black and gray whiskers of his goatee, "'Cause if you are, depending on what it is, I can try to help. Like, do you owe someone some serious money?"
"Huh? Oh, no, it's nothing like that. Uh... I met a woman about three weeks ago. We had a date, and I kinda screwed it up at the end. I'm hoping she'll email me, but she hasn't yet."
"Women troubles? Ah, fuck! I've been divorced twice, so maybe I don't qualify for helpful advice on that, but if she hasn't called or emailed, I'm thinking it ain't gonna happen. It sucks, but maybe you oughtta let go and move on."
I shrugged, producing a dry sound that would've been a laugh if I'd been in a mood to, "If only it were that easy! I haven't been able to get her out of my head since that night."
"Well, if she's that special, then I guess you'll wait as long as it takes, won't you? But, at least while you're on the job, can you try to pay attention to what you're doing? I don't want you getting yourself injured or killed on the job."
I promised to do so, and he dismissed me back to my job.
Every night, when I got home, filthy, sweaty, and exhausted, I immediately checked my email, deleting the junk mail, finding nothing from Nickie. I thought repeatedly about going to her home and begging for a second chance, but the one time I actually tried, I couldn't remember where she lived. I'd even driven around, searching for her house, hoping to come across it, but with no luck. With everything she had become to me, getting her out of my head for more than five seconds was an impossibility.
Just over a month after my date with Nickie, I was checking my email once more, and I stopped, noticing the email from Shadowcat313. I clicked it immediately, opening it, setting aside a sandwich that I had just made without a second thought. It read:
Gary,
Meet me at the coffee shop from before at nine tonight.
Nickie
I looked up at the clock, saw it was already eight. I showered quickly, charged with an energy I hadn't felt in over a month, dressed, and left, getting on my bike. It didn't start for seven or eight tries, but when it finally caught and revved, I sped down the street, driving recklessly, and not caring. I made it to the coffee shop where I'd met her in person with almost fifteen minutes to spare. I ordered a chai tea for myself and sat at a table to wait for her.
Nine o'clock passed, and then nine-twenty. I wondered if she had changed her mind; maybe I'd screwed things up too much for us to get past it. Nine-thirty, nine-fifty, and ten-fifteen went by, and the coffee shop was closing. I got to my feet, my chai tea only half-consumed and cold now. I threw it away, vowing never to drink another as long as I lived, as it would only remind me of what I'd lost. I sighed, wrenched with depression at the thought that I may never see her again, and sat on my bike. I didn't try to start it yet, simply staring down at the handlebars, which were slightly bent, due to a spill the previous owner took. I had meant to have the handlebars straightened, but never got around to it, instead just getting used to it instead.
Just as I was about to finally attempt to start my bike, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. I jumped off the bike and whirled to find Nickie standing nearby, dressed in all black. I almost didn't believe that she was really here, half-willing to accept that she was a hallucination, brought on by my desperate mind.
"I almost didn't come," she sighed, looking at the ground.
I tried to speak, but found my mouth unbelievably dry.
She continued, "I debated with myself as to whether I should. Even now, I can still taste you, and I find myself wanting more, almost so much that I can't stand it. I almost came to you just to have more of your blood. I went to Europe to escape my desire, my need of you. But everywhere I went, I thought of you. Every time I fed, I found it lacking because it wasn't you."
Still, I couldn't speak, tears pricking my eyes. I wanted so badly to rush to her and throw my arms around her, but I didn't think she'd receive that well, not if she was being tormented so badly by the scent of my blood.
"Thank you for not doing that," she shuddered, and I remembered how well she'd read my mind before.
Finally, I found my voice, "I haven't been doing very well."
"I know. There's nothing I could do for that... unless... if you really want to move on... I can make you forget me."
"God, no!" I cried, "If you ever felt anything for me, don't ever do that!"
She hesitated, obviously in as much turmoil as I was.
'Better to know why I feel so lost than to feel it and never know why,' I thought gravely.
"Oh, Gary!" she lamented, "I've never felt this way, not even when I was alive. Being lonely was far easier than this torture. Even now I can smell you, and my thirst is ravenous!"
I responded, "Even if you took every drop, I'd be happier than I've been for the past month."
"No!" she screamed in horror, and vanished so quickly that she might never have been there in the first place.
"Damn it!" I yelled, "Don't do this again! I can't take it anymore!"
I waited for hours, until I felt sure that she wouldn't come back. Then I waited longer, until the sky began to brighten with the coming day. Only then did I go home, feeling lower than ever. I sat at my computer, not seeing it, not seeing anything but her beautiful face, so tormented and afraid of what she might do to me that she'd endure such loneliness. I opened my email and looked for an email from her, but all that I saw was her email from earlier. I hit the reply button and started writing:
Dear Nickie,
I'm sorry that I've hurt you. I can't continue going on without you, no matter what the risk, so please don't make me. I only want to be with you. Please talk to me.
Yours forever,
Gary
I wanted to continue writing, wanting to pour out everything in me, whatever it took to make her see, but I kept it simple instead, deciding that she probably knew how badly I hurt, considering how she was faring.
Only five minutes after I hit Send, I saw a reply from her:
Gary,
If you only knew how dangerous it is to be with me, especially after I've tasted you, surely you wouldn't be so eager to rush into my arms. Sadly, even knowing this, I want nothing more than to have you in my arms, and this frightens me more than I can put into words! I don't think you understand how broken I'd be if I ever hurt you like that, or killed you (god help me). I can't risk it! If it means that I must go on without you, I must. Please, let me make you forget me so that you might move on and live your life. You won't remember having ever met me. For all you'd know, Shadowcat313 would never have existed. You've got to move on!
Please think about this,
Nickie
I shook as I considered this, and rejected it completely. If she made me forget her, I'd have a hole in me, I was sure of this, and I'd never know why it was there, and it would tear me apart. I began writing:
Dear Nickie,
Even if I have to live the rest of my life knowing that I can never have you, I'd rather do this than have to live unable to remember you, to remember the woman I've fallen completely in love with. If you insist, I'll stop writing and attempt to move on, but I'll never stop loving you, and anyone else I'll ever meet in my life will pale in comparison.