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"Matt would be dead."

"But you wouldn't be. And you would have gotten to grow up and have the life that you wanted, the life that you deserved. And I know that I didn't use to get that but I do now. And I wanted that for you, Elena. And I would gladly have given it to you and let Matt die, because I am that selfish. But you knew that already."

He drives.

His hand hits the dashboard, almost punching a hole in in it. The tension is building within him—he feels like he might explode. There are so many conflicting emotions and they're all heightened. He doesn't know what to feel—just the fact that she's alive is a source of both happiness and pain. That's not even dealing with all the other insanity going on between them.

The tires squeal as he takes a curve too fast, and he smiles with grim satisfaction. If he was human he would have just wrapped the car around a tree—scratch that, he would have wrapped the car around a tree at least a hundred miles back. One of the advantages of being a vampire is that you can drive angry (or mildly drunk) without losing control of the car—a skill he has put to good use over the decades.

As he drives, the only thing giving him the strength to keep going is the fact that she remembers everything, and a part of him never wanted her to know. He doesn't want her to know that they met first, and he kept it a secret—at first because he was focused on Katherine, and then because it didn't matter who'd met her first. He doesn't want her to know about the night he told her he loved her and then compelled it away, because it's one of the few vulnerable moments he's had in the last 150+ years. When people see humanity they expect humanity, and he doesn't want to live up to anyone's expectations. He can't live up to anyone's expectations, let alone hers. And God, he's tried. He's tried to be the better man. Where has it gotten him? Nowhere, that's where. The proof of this is in her words, which echo in his head…

I love him, Damon. He came into my life at a time when I needed someone and I fell for him instantly. No matter what I feel for you, I never unfell for him.

I care about you, Damon, which is why I have to let you go.

Maybe if you and I had met first.

His hand slams into the dashboard again as his masochistic subconscious hurls those words at him.

More words bubble up in his brain.

I've heard about you; the crazy, impulsive vampire in love with his brother's girl.

Those words, right there, sum up everything he is. He is crazy and impulsive. He lashes out and he does things he regrets.

He loves and he regrets.

That's his problem, isn't it? He's in love with his brother's girl. He has always been in love with his brother's girl. He loved Katherine. He loves Elena. He always falls in love with the same girl his brother does, and the girl always chooses Stefan.

It's always going to be Stefan.

He was slightly ashamed to admit that after a century and a half, he'd made almost no progress when it came to Stefan. He loves his little brother (although he would literally rip out someone's throat before he admitted it), but Stefan had always had things come easily to him. He has always been the favorite. Their father had loved Stefan more, Katherine had loved Stefan more, and now Elena loves Stefan more. Stefan could slaughter entire villages, and he was "not himself". It "wasn't his fault". People just forgave him, whereas Damon couldn't even feed on a perfectly willing human without being a "monster". The eternal double standard.

Maybe it was because Stefan tried to be better. Maybe it was because Stefan was the baby of the family.

Damon doesn't know, and honestly, he doesn't care. All that matters is that everyone prefers Stefan, and that fact would never stop hurting him. No matter how much he tried, he would never rise above his little brother.

Forty-five minutes later he's in some dive bar in Georgia, because he really is a masochist. Memories threaten to overwhelm him as he slams back drink after drink. And then he's in a back alley with a pretty blonde slumped in his arms. In reality she is as unlike a Elena as a person can be, and yet... every time he looks at her, all he sees is Elena's face staring back.

He hates himself, but this is what he does—what he knows.

This is who he is, but this isn't who he wants to be.

He never wanted to be this.

The alcohol, the blood, the relapse… It's not even about Elena, at this point. It's about feeling human, even if it's for five minutes. He would trade eternity for just five minutes.

He misses it so much, and there's only so much hurt he can take.

What hurts the most is that if he couldn't have his human life he wanted it for Elena. She should have gotten it. She should have gotten to grow up, get married and have kids. She should have gotten a house and a white picket fence. She should have grown old with a man who loved her, even if it wasn't him, and she should have died surrounded by her children and her grandchildren.

He would have let her hate him to give her that. He would have died to give her that. He would have given anything—everything—to make sure she got that.

And now? Now he doesn't know what to do anymore. He's trapped. He can't go forward, because she pulls him back. At the same time he can't backslide, because she pulls him forward. He's stuck in this in-between, and he hates it.

He has to go back.

He can't go back.

And so he arrives at his two options: he can honor his promise to Stefan and he can leave. If he's lucky the hurt may fade with time and distance. If he's not lucky… well, there's always alcohol.

On the other hand, he can go back. He can be there for her, and he can spend the rest of his existence following her around like a lost puppy.

It all comes down to the fact that he loves her. He loves her more than he has ever loved anyone.

He gets back on the road and heads in the opposite direction, back to Mystic Falls.

This isn't the first time he's tried to leave, and it won't be the last. He knows that.

But he always turns the car around.