With family, I kept a wide chasm. I didn’t know them, and mostly, they didn’t know me either. Yes, I knew who they were and where they lived, but I never contacted them or crossed their paths. Over the years, as kin died and others replaced them, I didn’t keep track. Why? I blamed it on never wanting to rely on others, but the problem was deeper than that.
Existing as long as I had, I’d learned people couldn’t be trusted—especially family members. Vampires had a prolonged grasp on the land of the living, meaning those I knew would always die and leave me behind. Most vampires didn’t cultivate friends outside of other bloodsuckers. Forming significant relationships and marking the passage of time with important events—birthdays, holidays, anniversaries—didn’t concern us. Keeping my distance from others just made sense.
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