My Beautiful Little Vampire
Story of Love
A Narcissist and A Codependent
My Beautiful Little Vampire
She was gifted with exceptional beauty.
Flimsy and innocent.
Walking with an aura.
A jewel to be protected.
And everyone around her wanted to do just that.
Without ever asking.
She was merely achieving what she believed was the best thing to attain.
Obsessed with her poetic beauty.
She was diligently looking after a divine perfection.
Or that’s what she imagined.
Over the seasons she uncovered a secret.
The path to achieve what she desired.
She started consuming gentle soul out of innocent people.
The unique way possible.
By sucking the blood of Chosen ones.
Most vulnerable people were manipulated, only once.
Till the very last drop.
And, Left dead.
There were some others.
Those who will be sucked, again and again.
And willingly let, live and regain.
The favourite ones.
The lucky ones.
The ones who are typically going to be intimately tied to her troubled rare soul.
Feeling empty, deficient, incomplete.
Except the bliss.
That she allured.
May be next time.
May be the time after.
I was one of the lucky ones.
She was the one, with a hole in the soul.
Yes, the special ones had something very unique.
They all possessed a lovely heart.
They all genuinely wanted to give.
Sacrifice, their principal source of profound satisfaction.
This in common was their fundamental reality.
She undoubtedly knew nothing else but how to take.
For her it was eternally I, I and I.
Inflicting pain for personal joy.
This was her reality.
An exceptional relationship.
Symbiotic? But not.
Collecting the losses.
And, Happy, to be not.
There was, in addition, something else.
She had a life and then there was everyone else.
To everyone else.
She was life.
And, there was, nothing else.
We were going to excellent jobs but did not know why?
We all got married and had children.
No one knew.
Days remain a dream.
Nights, a fantasy.
Nothing was real.
Except, my charming dear vampire.
And her not so frequent visits.
There was never enough of her.
She whispered everyone that she is enough.
We believed the same.
Well, almost everyone.
I habitually remain the sensitive one.
Feeling too much of everything.
Always interested in “Why”?
The reflective kind.
Even in Love.
Everyone was in self created illusion.
Reasonably assuming they are the dearest.
No one was.
Each thought that the vampire was in love.
There was a reason for the belief.
“She comes back to me. Doesn’t she?”
Between Love and unquenchable thirst.
Hers and theirs.
No one noted.
The ingenious plot. The typical game.
She never left anyone without a legitimate reason.
A fault of yours.
She wanted to stay.
You, did not, let her.
You are the one, to be blamed.
You are the one, who is guilty.
She was too polite.
She never punished anyone.
She just went silently.
The very deep Silence.
The profound ignorance.
You instantly begin to sincerely plead.
But She is engaged.
A pristine place and a different victim.
Suddenly you are generously forgiven.
“Happy are the days and joyous are the nights.”
There was always but a modest price to pay.
The emotional abuse.
Her drink of your soul.
She wants to talk.
But you have to wait.
She is going to call.
Yes, always by mistake.
And, in the middle of the night.
There are questions.
She is going to ask.
For you to explain,
To help her understand.
But she never can.
And, yes, she never will.
Sentences will be twisted and words employed.
Just a little while later,
To lit the fire.
A fire that consumes one from within.
And without any smoke.
Later you were told.
It all was all but a little joke.
You took it too seriously.
The fault, again, is yours.
And you were told
You are good.
There is always another, who is better.
Here she was.
And now, she is not.
Doors are locked, no traces left.
The ache in the heart
And, Depression that lasts.
The Saga continued.
It was later years of life.
The scene was the same.
Light was less.
Not many givers around.
She wanted more.
Was getting less.
She noted the sickness.
She noted.“The end.”
She desired the heaven.
Was looking for How?
She asked forgiveness.
Holy were the places.
But soul bore a hole.
She was drinking blood and asking forgiveness.
All at the same time.
Too ignorant to notice.
Forgiveness is a verb and not a noun.
And then, another of my turn came.
It was late in life.
This time something was not right.
She was talking.
About things, she never had.
As if even she possessed feelings.
I recognised her by now.
She knew, that I knew.
She sought forgiveness.
I urged her for what?
She kept silent.
I kept quiet.
Subsequently, I asked.
“Do you in fact grasp what you are requesting?
What actually has happened?
The people who allowed you to consume their blood.
They met only one of the two fates.
Some died and rest became vampires, themselves”.
I paused to look at her youthful looking innocent face.
“There is no other fate. Never was.
It has always been the same”.
“Are we going to live for ever”?
There was a lengthy pause.
“How are your kids”.
I politely asked.
“They are OK”.
Vague was the answer.
“There is something, bothering me a little”.
“The girl is like me and boy is like……”
“How about your family”?
“I have observed them.
They look superb.
Everyone is enjoying an ideal life.
All my loyal friends”.
She answered for herself.
“Should have looked harder.
You failed to observe something”.
I informed her.
She naturally asked.
“Let me tell you my story, and I am sure others are the same.
I spent all my life waiting for you.
I constantly desired you to be mine.
Even more importantly,
I wanted, to be validated, by you.
I always felt.
Mine and yours, souls are locked.
Since the day, I let you have, the first piece of my soul.
I virtually lived,
But never have.
I always felt, like a shattered glass.
You gave the gift. I passed it on.
Including the one’s, I dearly loved.
Spouse, children, friends, relatives, everyone.
Whoever I touched.
I sucked their soul.
Left them feeling “incomplete”.
I left them diseased.
I left them infected.
Made them all VAMPIRES.
Too many troubled souls now.
Too late to seek forgiveness”.
She looked as if she had experienced something.
Then in a moment moral darkness took over again.
And this time forever.
She put her hand on my hand.
“You know you are different.
You always have had a special place in my life.”
“Yes I know but I am not confused.
Love is always one sided my dear.”
“How can you say that?” She promptly asked.
“Because I am not talking about people.
I am talking about love itself.
It is always one sided.
I let my head fall back a little.
I instantly felt her fragrant breath and familiar warmth, on my face.
She started sucking blood from my neck.
I willingly let her.
I loved her after all.
A passionate love that was blind.
Did not pacify her.
Did not soothe me.
Did not comfort anyone in the ultimate end.