I still remember Angela like it was yesterday. We had plans of spending our whole lives together. Angela’s parents were rich aristocrats who didn’t like me. I was a young soldier who was fighting Europe’s battles. The year was 1405 when I first met Angela’s family; I had met her a few years before that and I just knew we were destined to be together. She was an aristocrat of old wealth and I was nothing more than a military peasant whose duty was to serve the king. Angela would come to the hospitals and volunteer her time to help all of the war ravaged soldiers. She didn’t want for anything, her parents gave her everything. I proved myself to her parents when she became sick. I was there for her to take care of her when none of her friends and family was able to. By that time I had recently became a vampire and I would have loved nothing more than to bite her father, but I didn’t. I maintained my composure, kept my cool, and made everything seem like normal. Back then you didn’t do anything to draw suspicion to yourself. What would they do hang me? I would still be alive. The only way they would successfully be rid of me is with a stake or cutting off my head with a guillotine. Nothing else would work and all of their possible deaths would be futile. I took care of all of Angela’s needs and ensured that she was safe. She was my only priority and the only person that mattered to me. We lived a good next few years until she got sick with pneumonia after walking home from an opera. The pneumonia ravaged her body quickly and she wasn’t able to be saved. Of course back 600 years ago there aren’t any of the medical advances there are now. She might have survived 100 or 200 years ago and she could survive with no problem today. When you get sick, it’s not the cold or bronchitis that kills you, its pneumonia. She left bronchitis untreated because she was unsure of how sick she really was and she inevitably died of pneumonia.
Her parents blamed me for many, many years making it seem like I caused her death. They swore to make my life miserable until the day they both died and that they did. I have never gotten over my love for Angela and I probably won’t. As long as my blood is crimson and my heart beats internally, my love for her will remain indefinitely. I still remember burying her fondly. I put her in a private sarcophagus that I could come visit whenever. I actually made my own private sarcophagus for all my family and past loves. I have a small private graveyard and sarcophagus room for my past loves. It’s hard to let go and say goodbye, but it’s harder to hang on for eternity like I have.