A/N Some little piece I wrote ages ago after I read Rosalie's story in Eclipse but also kind of fits what Rosalie might have been like had she felt bitter about Renesmee. I never really intended to post but, I obviously changed my mind tonight :) Enjoy.

The Inexplicability of Forever

"Why do you listen to this music over and over again?"

It's a question that I'm supposed to answer. It's supposed to start with my answer and gradually evolve into a drawn out conversation about my feelings. I know this because after a while the absence of time begins to distort your perception of everything.

I don't answer. Because I've done this before. And the answer will never change.

Nothing really changes. Sometimes, something will revert into something else and stay that way for a while and then revert back to its original form. And then the cycle will begin again. Like leaves on a tree; from green, to red, to nothing, to green. Change, change, change, repeat. Change, change, change, repeat. Change, change, change, repeat

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

I repeat.


"Why do you listen to this music?"

Has he asked this before? I think he has, but I'm not sure anymore because moments have melted into each other until all my memories are just one thought in my head that I can't understand and can't divide.

That's what time is; the division of existence into smaller and smaller fractions.

But eventually time is so big that when you divide it you don't get anything.

Forever isn't a long time, because forever isn't a matter of time. It's matter. An unexplainable matter that doesn't factor into a schedule or philosophy.

I thought with time, I'd get over the hurt of never having children. Of never growing old. Of never existing in the raw state that is humanity.

But I didn't, because there is no time, just existence. As time stops, so does the ability to grow and I find myself stuck in the same frame of mind for eternity.


"Why don't you listen to your music anymore?"

I'm nothing. Not anything. I don't exist. To exist there has to be absence of existence, and there isn't.

When it comes to life, perpetual is synonymous with the nothingness of nothing.

And I am perpetual.

I am nothing… Not anything…


He doesn't even ask.


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