Dear Samuel Uley,

You don't think I notice, do you?

You don't think I know that you loved Leah with all your heart, and soul. You think I'm so blinded by love that I'm not foolish enough to make comparisons?

Oh, I know the way you look at me. I see how you drink in everything about me, how that thirsted look in your eyes tells me that you couldn't live without me. And it does reassure me, many times, actually. I love the way you look at me, I love you the way you feel about me.

I bask in your glory, Sam. You raise my confidence, you make me feel beautiful. And when you kiss me, I feel like I'm on top of the world.

But I'm no idiot, Sam. I know the differences between your once love with Leah, and your supposed true love with mine.

I'm Emily Young. I'm kind and calm, quiet and patient. I ignore unpleasant things and makes situations better. I smile when things are rough. I make people feel okay, I make people laugh.

And well, I have been ignoring this for a while now. And it's tearing me up inside. I just can't keep it to myself, Sam. I just can't.

There are many differences with the love you have for me, and had for Leah. Maybe it's tiny and insignificant to the big picture...but it means the world to me.

Choice, Sam. Choice. Your choice. Your consciously made choice. Your decision, that you made with your own consent. Your idea. Your thoughts. Your free-will.

You didn't have any of that, with me, Sam. And as much as I'd like to think, you didn't choose to be with me, and quite frankly, you wouldn't have chosen me if you had the option.

You didn't choose to love me. However, I'm sure you do love me now...imprinting made sure of that. Ugh, imprinting. It isn't picture perfect, as we all like to think.

I don't deserve you Sam.

I never did. I never will. I stole you from my best friend. I took you away from the one person I thought I would love forever.

Now, I may have an excuse. Leah even says I do, though I know she's hurting. No one blames me. No one at all. Everyone understands, Sam...everyone.

But that doesn't make it easier for Leah. It doesn't make it better for her. She loved loved her. You chose to love her, chose to.

Do you see where I'm getting at? How is it love, if it's forced? How can we be happy, when deep down inside, I know you would never look at me and marry my cousin without this grotesque bond of love and making babies.

Ah, there it is again. Procreation, Sam. No one knows the reason why we imprint, but I can assure imprinted for some reason. I know you did.

Why imprint just to find true love, when one is capable of loving without a bond? No, Sam. Imprinting is not for love, it's for reproduction.

You even said it yourself.

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe you're wrong. Hell, maybe we're all wrong. But all I know is that you, believe that. said it yourself! You believe wolves imprint simply to pass the gene on. It doesn't matter if it's incorrect (which I'm sure it isn't) but, you believe it! Even if it's a lie, Sam, you accepted it as explanation. You defined our bond simply on the need to make puppies!

Do you see where I'm getting at? I love you, Sam. I love you, so very much. And you simply believe we're together just to make children. How am I not sure that you only see me as a baby machine?

What happens when my deed is done? Will the bond break? Will your love disappear? Will you run back to Leah, your first love?

That is my greatest fear, Sam.

We hurt Leah so much. I took you away, and I will always feel guilt. No matter how happy I am, I will always be guilty for what we did. We're no saints, Sam. Why should Leah suffer for our happiness? Since when did we become so selfish that we chose ourselves over the one person we loved so much?

Besides that extra strain on our relationship, we have many others. So many others Sam. I've met you before...on at least, seven different accounts. All of which included Leah; all of which included you staring at her like she was your world, Sam. You spoke simple words to me, Sam. A nice "Hello, how are you?" and that was it.

That's how I know you would have never chosen me. You saw me plenty of times, but you loved Leah then. You were so in love, you never gave me a second thought.

With her, Sam you were so lively, you were so fun and brash; you two would go out and be crazy together. You would giggle and curse, you would poke fun at people and yell things loudly in quiet rooms, like some adolescent boys, like children.

You were so mature then, Sam and you still are...but with were an entirely different person. Everyone saw how the normally, serious and straightforward Sam would suddenly light up in a school boys glee whenever he looked at Leah Clearwater. Everyone, Sam.

She brought out the carelessness in you, she brought the child in you – the happy spirit that was once stolen from you, when your father left your family, came back when you were with her. That was why you loved her so much, Sam. She was the reason why you got to live again.

And I would watch in jealously and shame, I wished then, that I would fall in love with a biker dude, just because of my craving for excitement in my life.

When you told me you imprinted on me, I was happy. I was glad, I was hoping I'd get a little love and craziness in my otherwise boring life, but that was not the case.

With me, Sam... you're so careful, you're so gentle. You treat me like a breakable china doll. You treat me like a little girl, a little, confused girl.

You love me, I know, but you're so paranoid about my well-being, that we never do anything fun anymore. We never go out and camp in the pitch dark, you're two afraid of vampires coming out of no where. We never kiss in the rain- you're too worried I'll catch pneumonia. All we do is lay in bed and cuddle. And even then, it becomes like I'm suffocating. Your heat burns me up until I have to separate from you completely.

Leah owns the human you, Sam. Normal Leah and normal Sam would have been together forever. They were soul mates in the normal world, Sam. They were meant to be.

I want our love to be normal.

I can't argue with you, before you crumble and take my side. You look so weak when I yell at you, I feel terrible, Sam. You look physically ill whenever I'm mad.

When you were mad at Leah, Sam, you two would yell for days. You two would argue day in and day out, you would fight because you both cared. You would fight because you wanted the best for each other.

You, Sam, simply want me to be happy. You'll do anything to make me happy. Anything at all...except things that endanger my safety. That's where the arguments come from.

Your entire mood is based on my own. You want me happy, at all times. You'll go insane if I'm unhappy. You'll go insane if I reject you. For example: The scars on my face

I don't hold anything against you, Sam. I know you hate yourself for what you did to me. However, I ponder on those sleepless nights about how...about if you really loved me. If you loved me, you would have let me go, Sam. You would have never put me in that position. You would never make me choose between you and my bestfriend.

But because you're bound to me in a serious bond, I was left with no choice. You would have been anything that I wanted you to be. As an imprint, you would have stayed just a friend, if I chose to. But I chose to love you...I chose to take you from her. Everyone seems to forget about that part.

When you were with Leah, there was something brass about it...there was something uncaring and reckless about your love for Leah. It was a 'screw the world' type of attitude, it was filled with expletives and taboos; it was dangerous. It was weird for the normal you, who takes everything into account and tries to make little or no mistakes. Your love with Leah was exactly what you needed. It was dangerous, Sam.

But it was fun. It was real. It was authentic. And after you guys would argue, it would always end in crazy make-up sex.

Believe me, I know. Leah would chatter on the phone in nothing but happy tones and quiet whispers about the tricks you used in the bedroom. The same tricks you use on me.

How can you believe that I don't notice that, Sam? How do you not even change your routine enough? You loved my cousin first, and I know for a fact, loved her the most. You wish you imprinted on her. You may never admit it. You may never think that. But I know, subconsciously, I was never your first choice.

And though you will deny it for the rest of our long lives, and though you will proclaim your love for me a million times will never reassure me again. I will never leave you, Sam, but I will never be so stupid enough to actually believe the lie.

Because you chose to love Leah Clearwater.

And you were forced to love me.

Sincerely, Emily Young.

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