My mother said she gave me the name Solomon because she hoped I would be wise like the King from the Bible. If I’ve become wise, it’s due to all the foolish things I’ve done.

Once upon a time it was the girl next door who made quite the fool of me. Her name was Misty and she had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. I was her fool the moment I looked into them.

To this day Misty is the only woman who ever brought me roses. She had picked them herself and wove the stems together. A red one, a white, and a yellow one. I’d been living alone for about a year after my 3rd wife when Misty came out of the darkness one night in a little black dress with a black jacket. It was a full moon and I was outside having a smoke.

Now I know what David Lowery was talking about when he sang he was searching for his angel in black.

It’s not like anyone these days remembers the band Cracker. 470 years ago when I mentioned the band name, I usually heard “Uncle Cracker?”

“No, just plain Cracker.”

They were never that big and even though they had more than ten albums they always had a smaller niche following. The song Euro Trash Girl is still one of my favorites. It’s that line about an angel in black that has kept it on my personal playlists for around 480 years.

Misty had eyes like no other. They were this dark grey blue with black spots. I still have yet to see another set like hers. It was those eyes that made it easy for her to play me for the fool I became around her. She was one of many who followed after my third wife as my life was training me to stop being such a hopeless romantic. I was learning to stop falling in love at first site with any set of pretty eyes I did fall into.

It’s always been what has gotten to me fall so fast, the eyes. Over the years I’ve been asked many times what my favorite part of a woman’s body is, and never has the answer changed, it’s the eyes.

I was aware of the vampire I am and still felt powerless every time I looked into Misty’s eyes. The only time  had been such a mindless slave to a woman was Gale Guzman. Gale had me at a look across a crowded room. When our eyes met we walked toward each other and came faced to face and an energy wave went off like nothing I’ve ever felt since. She knew the vampire she was while I had no clue about the vampire I am.

Misty had brought back a flood of memories about Gale and the short time we spent together that destroyed my soul. It’s literally been centuries since I last saw her and even now I would love to see her one more time just to see what would happen. I guess Gale’s the one I never got over and seem to be incapable of getting over. I know why though, and I work at forgetting about that.

Gale and I did this Wicca ritual in which we bound ourselves to each other in the idea of marriage under the eyes of the Goddess. The Goddess has refused to release us from this bond for 489 years. I met her just after I left town and before I met Priscilla.

The fucked up thing is the one time I went looking for her I found the dead end of all dead ends. She had been in the Air Force and at one point in life I knew some people who worked for the US government that don’t exist on paper anywhere. I’d asked one of them to look into Gale’s military record and it didn’t exist. That meant she had been pulled for some serious black ops stuff.

I’m willing to bet when the search went through on her name it threw up all kinds of red flags and I probably ruined her career. Oh well.

As I honed my skills over the years I’ve reached to her many times and have even made contact through a kind of Telepathy where emotional concepts are sent back and forth.

I know she’s still alive and God only knows under what name. I know she has kept track of me for most of the last 460 years since I first looked her up. I know she knows exactly how to find me and refuses to do so. Nothing I can do about it so I just go about my life as if this bond between us doesn’t exist and then something will happen to remind me of it.

The power we gave to The Goddess to bond us cannot be undone until we meet one more time. I know we are both afraid of the same thing, falling all over again the moment our eyes meet. Over the centuries this has pissed me off that she is being such a fucking chicken shit about it.

After 300 years I learned to accept it and that all my romances will have some sort of long suffering end until I free myself from Gale. It’s why I spent around 50 years single for one stretch to keep from inflicting that curse on another and putting them through the hell the break ups in my life always seem to be.

It’s a real pain in the ass to fall in love knowing every romance has a timer on it. It made my life sheer torture for more than a century. I’m at peace with it now though I still say Gale is a fucking worthless peace of flesh to let me twist in the wind for centuries. I may not say that in the book, but fuck it’s how I feel every time her name floats through my mind. Total fucking coward.

Oh well, I have no control over anything. I respect Gales choice to be a coward and hide from me.

Wherever she is I hope she is safe and healed and whole. That will never happen as long she keeps being the coward she is. I can hope all I want and it won’t change the actual results she lives with as a coward. Of course since I’m quite focused on her right now as I write this journal she can feel exactly how I feel about her and I can feel she still fears seeing me again.

Right now I’m abusing the blue holy fuck out of that and might keep writing for another hour or two just to fuck with her. I think she’s earned it.

Nah, I’m better than that.