My eyes opened only seconds later. Then it occurred to me that I wasn't dead. I really wasn't dead. I was so happy. I had to find Fred. I didn't doubt that he was already gone from Vancouver. But I was still going to try to find him. If I succeeded I wouldn't be a loner. Unless Carlisle and Esme really meant that I could stay with them. But if not, and I didn't find Fred, I would be a loner. I would die of loneliness. Of weakness, for not hunting. I guess it's all in how you look at things. But right now, I didn't think the hour glass was being kind to me. I didn't think that my life would carry on for much longer. So I was looking at things in a negative way. So what? Diego was dead, I was almost killed, and I was truly doubtful that I would find Fred again.
But if I did find Fred, well then I would be somewhat better than I am right now. Or worse condition, considering that Diego was gone and I admit to myself now that I really did secretly like him. But now I couldn't think about that.