I am dodging the lynchpin of this whole insanity. I mysteriously refer to the damned and being damned, but the horror of this situation keeps me in partial denial of my new form. I can't possibly stay in denial due to the requirements of maintaining my new form, but it's easy to try and forget as I record my experiences.
Essentially, Darius not only took my heart, but my life. It could be poetically rendered as the "kiss of the death". It was a damned good kiss though. The best ever, in fact. However, the kiss was my ultimate cross into what our pop culture would refer to as vampires, although I'm much more willing to adopt the word "kindred" or "brethren". It sounds better. But no, I can't see myself in mirrors (difficult for makeup) or look upon another ray of sun (talk about taking something for granted). Yes, I do have to eat...and you know what I mean by that. The horror of it is too much to transcribe into words. I would rather not appear beast-like in my first few entries, although my ex-student Ethan has taken great pains to encrypt this for me. I will say that Darius is teaching me well a more socially acceptable way to stay alive, although I do not think I will ever get used to it. I will also never accept it as normal.
It is my determination to remember the responsibility that I have to not hurt those of whom I depend for continued existence (I can't really say life). So far I'm learning that it takes enormous amounts of self-control, as it is one of the most fantastic experiences ever discovered, but the truth is never far away...I need his or her lifeblood for that experience and personal existence. How can I justify my existence if I take another's away? I remember even giving blood to the bloodbank, and how weakened I was for a day. I have to maintain that memory and feeling. I am sure that trials will come my way to test my determination on this matter, but it is currently one of the few things holding my feet to the ground.