Sometimes I hate knowing. I hate knowing exactly what's going on. Surely the fact that I don't open my mouth and speak makes me the deceiver in my own right? My own personal, twisted, guilt-filled glory of knowing. It's happened before but never like this. Now there's too much at stake; people's lives, sanity, safety, hearts... I watched knowing that Stefan Salvatore was giving his heart away. Even when I didn't know, I knew.
How sick is this? This whole lying, scandalous masquerade? I've lived it my entire life . Sometimes I wished that everyone else knew the way I did. That way I would be free from the guilt of acting as though things are normal. But...now...I'm not too sure. They know as well as I do, the dangers of the world, more than originally perceived. They know how everything is uncertain and how even the slightest reckless decisions might be the last you ever make.
Did this knowledge make a difference? No. But then what did I expect? Elena hates certainty, no matter how much she denies it. And some of us just have so much to give. Tell me, when will it be the time to take of the masks? To finally drive home the truth that nothing is as it seems.
The supernatural ensure that nothing can ever be true or pure. It knows that giving away your heart is the most reckless decision of all.
Love is the most reckless gamble. It bleeds uncertainty...