It has been years since Eve has been gone... I know I will never forget the beautiful creations and person that she was, and her silent suffering that she could no longer control. The kind of suffering many of us have that are too afraid to speak about, and by many just gets passed off as nothing that is truly a serious problem. For the short time that I knew Eve, I had the wonderful and amazing privilege of seeing her beautiful creations and learning from her how to express my creativity using the web as another method to express my artistic, complicated, and damaged mind.
Eve's husband wrote the following, and I'm glad that he has kept her site alive for those who knew her, and who want to get to know such a beautiful person but never had the chance. Eve is not the only person that suffers this way. There are more of us and maybe, just maybe, one day there will be more people like Eve's husband, that will understand the pain we go through... just trying to get from one day to the next and maybe, help us find a way to find the light at the end of the tunnel.
~taymie
IN MEMORY OF EVE
I once met a girl with golden hair and silver eyes...
Her name was Eve, and from the first moment I met her I adored her. A philosopher once said that "A mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to ebe kindled", and the mind that I encountered that day was the brightest, most colorful, and fiercest that I am ever likely to meet again.
I once held a girl with golden hair and silver eyes...
There was something wrong, though. I soon learned that the flame in her eyes burned her. I did not understand it at first, but that did not matter at the time. I found that I could cool her wounds with but a word, with but a touch, with but a kiss. With all my heart I wanted to help her, and I thought that I could. But I did not understand how much it tore at her. It broke her down. It ate her alive.
I once loved a girl with golden hair and silver eyes...
What caused this fire to break containment? Eve had a very hard life. Many of us do, you say? Many of us have had a much, much worse life and turned out fine, you say? And if I stabbed you with a dagger, would you hurt more or less than what Eve would have? eh? The same? How could anyone believe that the pain and suffering that one person feels should be anywhere near what YOU would feel? If someone else hurts so much more than you with the same wound, do you have less respect for them? Yes? Many people agree with you. Eve's wrist bears a long scar, long healed, of her first escape attempt.
I once rescued a girl with golden hair and silver eyes...
Survival, for Eve, was now made desperate. And because of that, there now entered a long list of individuals who took advantage of that fact. But beside that list, is another, far more unholy and most unforgivable list of names. For those upon it, they should not fear me upon this earth. But when we are all dead, they should pray I never learn who they are. These are the people who saw how Eve was suffering, and told her how wrong it was that she should feel so...so...dramatic about everything! Another escape was attempted, with the sleeping pills that had given her the rest that demonic nightmares had begun taking away from her.
I once married a girl with golden hair and silver eyes...
There are many psychiatrists on this last list, and the damage that they did I will happily organize their penance for, once our spirits leave this plane. But finally there was one last psychiatrist that had the wonderfully unique thought of testing Eve for a chemical imbalance! Medication was provided for her, but Eve never believed that they helped much at all. It was more important that now, people should understand WHY Eve had to fight so hard to live. It helped, but there were still many, who still could not stop torturing her for being so weak. Still, her parants gave her a home where she could rest, and recover well enough for her to take herself to Chicago to meet me.
I lived my happiest with a girl with golden hair and silver eyes...
I adored Eve with everything my heart could give. I protected her. And I provided for her a life and environment where I saw that flame in her mind come alive with the most beautiful creations the Internet had ever seen. When that flame began to burn her, I cooled the wounds! The poisonous voices that tore at her, I silenced! I could never explain all of what Eve meant to me. She gave my life meaning and love, and for that I would give her anything.
I once lost a girl with golden hair and silver eyes...
And of all the voices that were alive inside her mind, THAT voice was the hardest for me to silence. I gave her everything, and she hated herself for having to take it. I reassured her without reservation. I swore to god that what she gave me was worth a world of the soulless money and time it took to keep her happy. I told her that it wasn't her fault. She did not ask for the problems that afflicted her! But the voices came back when I was not around. They told her how she should hate herself for how desperate she had always been, and for how people had taken advantage of her, and for how she was taking advantage of me.
All-Hallows...
Eve loved Halloween. Her imagination and creativity flamed to life every October with how we should celebrate it this year. Her haunted mansion was arguably her most beautiful creation. I was so proud of her. I was so proud of being her husband.
But there was no mention of Halloween this year as it approached. Once again, Eve was on medication. And once again it was not helping. The voices had grown to screams, but I could still silence them when I was with her. The blazing wounds she suffered, I could still cool. I just had to stay with her, and I tried to every moment I could. All she had to do was maintain hope. I don't know what took that away.
The shot I heard as I slept finally silenced the voices.
And quenched her flame.
And shut her silver eyes forever.
I ran downstairs to her.
Felt for a pulse.
Kissed her golden hair.
And told her one last time how much I loved her.
As I write this I find myself completely lucid, but I know that will change. With only a simple mental image, or unbidden memory, I am reduced to uncontrollable tears, as I have jumped back and forth since Eve took her life. Perhaps it is anger that holds me firm now, but that will not hold. This anger is NOT directed towards any of Eve's fans and readers. You helped me keep her happy and alive for as long as we could, and I needed all your help. I thank you all for your wonderful words of encouragement and affection towards Eve. Several of you became her best friends, and she needed those so desperately.
Good-bye.
Mark -- (e-mail address omitted).
