Tonight I cut into my leg. It was different, like returning to an old friend I’d forgotten. There’s something very awkward about having Aura present when I cut. It’s a very private ritual, and sends me into a state that I’d rather nobody see me. Even though she never watches, on some level it feels like an invasion of privacy.
It felt odd to be doing it alone again – for no purpose other than to satisfy the crazy urge that consumes me every now and then. It’s different, now that I have the responsibility of feeding a Vampyre. I’ve got to ration how much I cut – for if not for her, I wouldn’t care whether or not I felt like shit after cutting. But I don’t want her to carry any extra guilt for what she needs.
I filled up 4 vials of blood tonight – much more than she’d need in a single feeding, but satisfying for me to see. I never realized before I started this vampire thing how opaque blood really is. It seems a lot less watery when you see it in glass bottles. That’s another thing about having a Vampyre present. When I cut, I don’t want to stop – but out of consideration for her, I try not to make it any messier than it has to be. Once she’s had her fill, I bandage up. But being alone tonight, I could cut as much as I wanted to.
The thought of 30mls of blood going unused must be quite frustrating for those vamps who don’t have donors. It makes me wish blood stayed “alive” for more than 6 hours, and that mailing blood was legal. I could send to the other Vampyres I know – but I can’t.
It’s still not so different from what I’ve been doing all my life. In some ways, nothing’s changed. I still hide bandages in a packet under my bed. I’m still worried that my cuts will soak through my jeans. I still wince when someone touches my leg. I think about the budding romance with a boy, and think about how, as much as I want to, I can’t have sex with him, because of the state of my legs.
I’m down with the flu, and so is Aura. She’s feeling totally miserable, and I can only imagine what she’s going through. At the same time, I’m worried that my fluey blood will make her feel worse, not better.
Not for the first time, I realize how difficult it must be for her kind. How on earth can someone trust a total stranger with such a taboo secret? I’d hate to rely so deeply on somebody. At least I’m independent in what I do. At least I can satisfy my own blood lust – so different from hers – on my own.
It’s my responsibility to feed her, and I feel bad for not letting her feed, but I guess it’s a donor’s right to “decline feeding for whatever reason”. She’s really hungry. She said that I might want to bottle the blood, and give it to her like that, “to keep things civil.” She doesn’t want to come across as beastly. But I understand that it’s a natural part of her, and its okay with me.
My need is beastly too. And she can’t accept her beastliness any more than I can accept my own. I’ve heard feeding can turn into an obsession. Sometimes cutting becomes an obsession. Sometimes I can’t stop when I start. Maybe it’s the same for her. Maybe that’s what she’s afraid of. My need, and hers, makes us vulnerable in a way other people aren’t. In the same way she’s dependent on blood, I’m dependent on bloodletting. It’s difficult to accept my need. It’s difficult for her to accept hers. And I don’t know if either of us can accept it, but we’ve just got to live with it.
There’s a lot of things I never realized about this Vampyre thing. I never realized having a vamp feed is more draining than cutting without one present. I never realized I’d care so much about someone I hardly know. I never realized. I just didn’t. But now I do.