First, I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed this story. I seriously hope everyone enjoyed it. Second, this is the longest and last chapter of the story. I think it's a good stopping point for Damon. So, please read and enjoy!

He wandered around Europe for awhile.

He doesn't remember where he went or how he got there. All he knows is that there was a lot of movement, a lot of clambering. He remembers being jostled. Remembers being driven by the wave of bodies rushing to make trains and planes, buses and taxis.

There were no real thoughts in his head. It was all clutter. All he heard was white noise.

He shouldn't have expected anything. He allowed himself to hope, and it was the worst thing he could have done for himself. When would he let her go? When would he stop torturing himself with dreams that would never materialize, that would never come to fruition?

He was in a ferryboat bathroom when he finally awoke from his self-pitying stupor. He looked into the mirror and saw the gray-toned face of a dying man. There were circles under his eyes that looked as if someone had pushed their thumbs into clay. Sheens of sweat lay over his skin, adding to the already unkempt look of stubble and dirty clothes. He couldn't remember the last time he bathed or the last time he ate. He was surprised to have survived this long without decaying into ash.

He did the best he could with what was available: a temperamental sink, some flimsy paper towels, and a ferry worker. By the time he emerged, he looked somewhat presentable but still groggy and lightheaded. Still feeling as if he had been torn in half by jagged teeth. He took in his surroundings and deduced he was somewhere off the coast of Italy, only confirming this when the ferry left him off at Naples.

He hopped in a taxi and made his way to the nearest airport. He couldn't stay in Europe anymore. He was sick of its clash of modern and middle-aged beauty, of seeing a Starbucks next to a 500 year old building. As twisted as it sounds, he felt this hit too close to home.

At the airport, he compelled a businesswoman to give him her credit card, which he then used to buy a ticket and some new clothes. He felt sick the moment he searched his pockets and found all those fucking postcards he had so dutifully written and never sent. What a fucking pussy.

On the plane, he drank too much and watched the awful in-flight movie before snacking on a stewardess in the cramped bathroom. He was being reckless and didn't care. He was hoping for some kind of confrontation, but none came. It was just as well. He wouldn't really have had the energy.

He landed in New Delhi.

He doesn't know why he chose this particular region. He wanted something foreign. Something distant. Something that would drive a wedge between him and his sick obsession with his brother's girlfriend. India sounded nice. India sounded far enough away so as to stretch the ties to Mystic Falls, maybe even snap them.

He made his way to the train station, getting into a rickety taxi and sitting patiently while the driver twisted and turned, fighting his way through a traffic of markets and pedestrians. He barely made the train to Kanpur, but a few hours and a tasty Indian woman later, there he was.

Now he stands on the shore of the Ganges River, staring into the distance and trying to ignore the smell of the sewage. A breeze stirs the air, however brief, and he can smell smoke and spices. There is a funeral occurring a few yards from him. All of the attendants dressed in white, scattering a loved one's ashes and a handful of flowers into the water.

According to Hindu belief, immersing oneself in the river cleanses one from all of their sins and frees them from reincarnation. It is a pathway to heaven.

The river is one of the most polluted waterways in the world, and people die from its consumption. He walks into the water anyway. He's a vampire, and whatever is in this water that kills people will not kill him. All of those unsent postcards float out of his pockets and begin to drift along with the current, taking pieces of his heart with him.

But he is still here.

He dives into the water much to the dismay of others.

Secretly, he prays that the belief is true.