a/n: goodness.. this story is REDONE AGAIN! So please, if you see errors let me know. Appreciate any and all reviews!

thanks to smilelikeacullen for pointing out the obvious ;p and letting me know this would all be less confusing if it were first person!

And to The Romanticidal Edwardian who is probably the only reason I still post

I had a day to myself. There was no perilous laundry, no dishes. I could do anything I wanted. My eyes drifted to my book, but I knew I wouldn't be able to focus. I couldn't stop thinking about Edward's distaste towards my upcoming change.

It really didn't make any sense to me. His philosophies were too out of whack. I had a hard time following it myself.Edward didn't want me to become a vampire because he didn't want to take my soul away. My soul must be like some golden ticket. I couldn't help but snort at that idea.

Which must mean he doesn't have a golden ticket. So I'll die if one of them won't change me; then he'll find someway to die. I grimaced. Idiot. And I'll be left standing somewhere with this golden ticket. And he won't be there? Or maybe he'll be there without his ticket and something will carry me away on some cloudy chariot alone? Selfish bastard.

Therefore, the only logical thing to do is to make me a vampire.Then there is no fear of us ever being separated by some cruel force in the universe that demands golden tickets in the first place.

I had to force my fists to relax.

I wanted to explain to him how childish he was being. But he just glares at me and those hard furrows in his brow make me sigh. In his 109-year-old "wisdom" he saw my impatience as further proof of my irrationality and immaturity. I didn't think he'd ever understand his maturity was stunted by at least based on the simple fact he was male.

And his fabulously granite skin only makes his head that much thicker. I giggled to myself as my heart gave a slight flutter just at the thought of his skin.

I was soon frowning again. I wondered if his distaste stemmed more from fear. Not of taking my soul but of simply losing me. Losing my scent, losing my blush, losing my ability to dazzle him. And, in becoming like him, him losing his ability to dazzle me.

I felt the bile rise in my throat and swallowed twice, trying to force it back down.

Calm down, calm down. Put your head between your knees. That sometimes works. Too many ifs. But if I don't there is no doubt we lose in the end no matter what.