How do you feel about immortal or nigh-immortal creatures in relationships with humans? You’ve got personal experience, with chef at least, so I wanted your view. Twlight and things like it are gross because centuries old vampire and a highschooler- but there’s still a huge age gap even if they’re 50 or even 90 (what we do in the shadows had a joke about this). Adults can do as they like, but it still feels weird. People, even monsters, crave intimacy, though- romantic and/or platonic, right?

Firstly… I acknowledge no other monster than my own species. No such thing. Deal with that.

Because I acknowledge no other species, I can only tell you what I think about my own experiences, both of having a relationship with a human and watching humans slowly sexualize my race for their own purposes.

I dislike the human quality that attempts to absorb or make less frightful, a thing, by fucking it. Really. It’s absurd. Reproduction is perhaps the strongest motivator, I understand, but somehow that conflicts with your higher brain functions in an altogether astoundingly hideous way to the objective onlooker.

I am all for your species coming to understand us better. I am entirely happy with you perhaps growing to appreciate, be fond, have affection for us, but if you please…on our terms. Don’t make sparkling, passionate previously human models of us. We never were human. We aren’t like you. We don’t think the same way. Our concepts of ethics and morality differ vastly and our capacity to act on those far exceed yours. What little similarity you see between yourself and me, as I sit on these websites and offer up my thoughts, is merely a figment of translation. I can only make myself understood by discussing myself in your terms, because I am speaking your languages and comparing to your experiences, which, as I have said, are nothing like mine. Which means that any impression you gain of me is unfairly tilted in the direction of painting me humanlike.

I have a difficult time making you understand certain things, and invariably, you transform them into human things. When I tell you I am in a mood, in a state, in a funk, feeling dispassionate or so forth…you all inevitably come to me and ask what you can do about it. You try to “make it better”. You equate it with depression, or malaise, or ennui, when in fact it is none of those. There is nothing “wrong” with me. That’s just what I am. I work very diligently to keep myself in a “human form” or keep my thoughts in the human sphere. I try daily to restrain myself into a semblance befitting interaction with you. Every now and again, I can no longer manage it. I have to return to my natural state, which is very different from yours. I don’t know how else to qualify this except to say that I appreciate your desire to help me, but help isn’t necessary. 

Do not hug the snarling animal. Do not feed the wild things. It isn’t wise. And I know everything in your culture attempts to absorb animals and things of this earth by humanizing them–then either turning them into games, costumes, romantic partners, plot devices, etcetera–but please don’t.

And as for my relationship with Chef…it is complex and nothing like a human romance. We tried that. It lasted less than a year because I cannot maintain that facade for any length of time. He is the person I protect most sincerely, after whom I worry, the one whose well-being is critical to my thoughts, but he has his own space. I have mine. He lives his life and I participate, but he no longer attempts to insert himself into my affairs unless he is trying to explain something to me. He has learned that he isn’t allowed to make me into something like him.

What we have is emotional, yes. For him it is somewhat romantic, but that is modified. He uses me as a control mechanism over the parts of his mind that he feels are uncontrollable. He is in therapy for this and as he grows, he requires less of that from me. He finds other humans he enjoys and he spends time with them. I am pleased with this, because it means that he is growing. Out of me? Perhaps so. Do I mind this? No. 

You say immortals want companionship, but do you even understand what that means or what you are saying?

You are seeing from human eyes yet again. Not perceiving us as we are. We are, even those of us who do not speak, solitary by nature. We like to sit in high places and look out. We are always listening. That is our chief enjoyment and sense of ourselves. Yes, we like the odd interaction, it’s true, but for us that is a “ping” and not a necessity. It’s data collection. It’s a momentary interaction with the system we are observing. 

Those of us who can speak, we have developed the capacity to understand you as more than that. We see that you are complex and unique and we want to understand it, because my species is curious by nature. We want knowledge of you, not to be your chums. It isn’t emotionally possible for us to be chums with so many. 

You say to me, “But Simon…you’re so friendly! you talk so well in conversation! You spend so much time being available and dispensing advice! You’re so open.”

And I say in reply that that is an illusion aided by the distance of modern communication, the ease of technology, the go-between which is the internet. I can be open with you here, because it is words on a page that I post when I care to. Thoughts and nothing more. I interact with you, yes. Some of you come to me privately and develop friendships with me, yes. But I have and always will warn you not to become to dependent on your version of the monster. You need to see that in many ways, you are grafting me into your consciousness, not allowing me to exist as I am.

I do enjoy you. I am your friend. I am kind so long as I maintain discipline. I can translate myself into a version that will make sense to you, tough all of you will find your own version of that sense. 

This is a human world now. Whatever we were in the past, we aren’t anymore. Our existence is being threatened, and most strongly by your denial of us by that slow transformative effort to turn everything different into a version of yourself.

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