VampAmber’s Clutter

Love? She had no way to understand the concept. Some who had shared her bed had called that love, but she was fairly certain the woman (sorry, the goddess) lecturing her did not quite mean that particular type of love. According to the flimsy woman (definitely not a warrior’s build), it was something felt in the heart, especially in mortals. It was just so confusing the way she was explaining it. When you wanted something, you just took it, right? None of this bullshit “wooing” that seemed to be what the woman was getting at. But no matter how many times she said what a foreign idea it was to her, the goddess kept explaining it like something she should be feeling. Feelings, now there was something she had no use for. Stupid, drippy things, making people as stupid as the feeling. Not for her, definitely.

But Aphrodite would just not give up. Something about being chosen a really long time ago, about her lives being followed and full of those drippy things. Ha! Nothing could conquer her, especially nothing such as that! She’d die by the sword, by a mage’s hand, not by falling in love. Sounded unpleasant.

“But you must know it, feel it, embrace it.”

“Not feeling it,” she replied, sticking out her tongue. While gods did usually deserve respect, this one didn’t seem to warrant it.

“I’ve brought them all together. You’ll meet them, trust me. And there will be connections. You won’t be able to deny me any more, once you feel it.”

Damn, those stupid mortal existences she was supposed to have. This woman was going to mess them all up. She already knew the connections forged before her time would pull at others, bring them into her lives, but she didn’t realize it’d be by way of drippy emotions.

“The whole range of my emotions, you will go through them all. Unrequited, as well as heartbreak. Every degree of my touch you will feel on your heart.”

“No!” She did NOT like where this conversation was going.

“There will be the good side of my hand as well, in these emotions. You will experience the entire spectrum of my love. It will hurt at times, but it will be a pain that is far worth it.”

“Why would I subject myself to such pain? What if I just choose not to feel it?”

“When the time comes, you will ask for it.”

“Never!”

The woman smiled at that, sinking her stomach as far as it could go. “Never say never.” Then, as with most gods that she had met, the goddess was no longer there.

“I would never ask to be tortured in such a way.”

Tangled in the sheets, he said “I love you” to her and her heart melted. He kept saying it, and she was on cloud nine. She could never think of anything that would make her happier. Now we can date! Well… as soon as I break up with my boyfriend, at least. But he said he LOVED me!

Guilt over said boyfriend kept her from going any farther than making out, and when she said no, he stopped everything. He was pissed off at her, she could tell that. He wouldn’t be throwing daggers at that cardboard box if he weren’t. Did I fuck up that badly?

He told her he wouldn’t date her a few days later, when she asked. He said he didn’t have normal emotions, or some such shit. He was like a robot, according to him. He just took in information. He’d be bad for her. The days and weeks after that were hell. The worst part was, no matter how much of an ass hole he was to her, how many girls he dated, she was still in love with him. It tore her insides apart, but if he’d just said “I love you” again, all would be completely forgiven.

“Why did you say it?” she asked him. “Why did you have to say ‘I love you’?”

“To see if I could.” He responded. She actually felt her heart shatter. Every breath, she felt those shards of glass, covered in acid, pressing into her lungs.

“I’m sorry,” she said through tears. “I’m just not in love with you any more.” Her now ex boyfriend didn’t take that too well, but it was the truth. She had thought she wanted him, but it only lasted a few months, not the forever she was hoping for. It never did last.

Passion; there was plenty of that. His kisses were… electric. She assumed it was love, even though the smell was off. That was one of her weird quirks, the smell of guys she liked. He smelled like ketchup or salsa or something, and it was unappetizing. But damn if she wasn’t drawn to him. He was fairly drawn to her as well, judging by how often he pursued her. If only he didn’t have a girlfriend. But the smell, she just couldn’t quite get past it. He ended up not being good for her any way, ended up being a total jerk, always complaining about something.

She was depressed, that was damn certain. Kicked out of college, couldn’t seem to keep a job no matter how hard she tried. At the library, she met a boy (and that was all he felt like, a boy). She went too far, had sex with him. She hadn’t even known him a week. It killed her inside. She melted down completely. Couldn’t cope with things. What was wrong with her?

“I call him to me, the one meant for me.” She didn’t know where the words came from, but she said them anyway. Very powerful stuff.

He seemed great in the beginning. He made it past the usual three-month mark, so that had to be a sign, right? Even lasted past the year mark. But was she really happy? She lied to herself about being in love with him for the last few months of the relationship. She just wanted to feel love that badly.

“Gods damn it! The bitch was right!”