by Sally Bergesen


When I was 16, I dated a vampire. 

I didn't know it at the time. He was just a boy. But I loved him desperately.  like one might love a rescue team, or the last train out of childhood's refugee camp. And he loved me like one might love a potted plant, like a bit of greenery that shows up during the holidays, on the window sill with all the others.

I came to know he was a vampire like most people, with the biting. It was a sultry afternoon and he was driving me across town, the engine rumbling like desire. When I turned toward him, he kissed my neck and I felt a sharp, deep sting like that of a blood draw. I let out a cry and my fingers moved to the wet spot on my neck, feeling a small puncture and a flap of skin.

Eventually, the puncture closed. But the flap of skin never healed. When bored, or listing toward a night of newfound insomnia, my fingers would drift up and push the flap of skin back and forth, feeling its deadness against my jugular.

When the vampire moved away, I began dating someone new. A nice boy who didn't drive. And one day, the flap of skin was gone. I remember because it was right after I turned toward him and tasted his sweet, soft neck.


Sally Bergesen is the Founder and CEO of Oiselle. You can find more of her writing here.

Sally Bergesen

Founder and CEO of Oiselle, a women's running apparel company based in Seattle, WA.