Memoirs of Madness~28

I am not sure which is more bruised. My ego, my heart, or my body are pretty much neck and neck right now. But the battle has only just begun. It was as I had feared when I returned to Wyatt's place. At first he stood with his back to me and I could sense the dark power rolling off him in waves. And help me, but the pull on my own dark desires rose unbidden to the fore front of my being. To be careless and free from all of the emotions and turmoil over the eight months or so..and he stood there so dark, so beautiful and still so inviting despite his coldness. In some bizarre way being dark suits Wyatt, the power literally surrounds him like a cloud of electricity. I don't know if I am just that wholly stupid or if I really though I stood a chance. Being a centuries old demon doesn't even begin to compare to a twice blessed whitelighter/witch who has gone dark side. Wyatt is beyond powerful in his normal state, but this..this was as close to a death wish as one can get to. I tried every tactic I could think of, every word imaginable to reach to some inner part of him that might still be reachable, hoping to reach that good part of him buried deep. But this is what he had come to, all of my suspicions confirmed and he takes the cowards way out. I know my words sound harsh and maybe even a bit unfair, but how else can I view it. He has gone dark so he doesn't have to care who he hurts, this way he only sees it, in the long run as hurting himself. Coward! Why can't he just own up to what is going on and quit playing games with me. And I say me and include no one else in this torturous game. It's a win win situation for him, no matter who he chooses, someone is there waiting for him. Why this, why now, why the unbearable torture of prolonging the words I know I will eventually hear..if anyone can pull him back from the brink of this madness. I hate him and I love him at the same time and I realize that somehow he is more confused and possibly more damaged than I am even after my centuries of existence. When my words became too much for him to continue to listen to, the words turned to physical violence. Now, I am not a stranger to having my ass kicked now and again. Bruises, cuts, and broken bones are nothing new to me. It comes with the lifestyle I lead and I do heal fairly well in the bodies I dwell in, but the cut on my lip, the possibly fractured rib, and the bruises cut much deeper than any other fight I have been involved in. Being tossed against the wall a few times and slammed into a coffee table by the man you love is not exactly my idea of a romantic evening. I joke here..I joke and my laughter is carried on the wind away from me, because if I do not joke, I will succumb to those hot stinging tears that make me feel weak. I can not afford weak right now as I battle to bring Wyatt back without losing myself in the process. I can't help but feel that tug that tells me how formidable we would be..how no one would take Wyatt from me again if we dominated the underworld together..but I have fought my dark nature for far too long to give in now. I will nurse my wounds for a few brief hours and then I will track him down again. I swore once to never walk away again and that I wouldn't give up on him. It's a promise I can not take back...