Good Names For A Good Vampire

am again confused. As so often lately. Some say this is the age, others make lewd comments on the forthcoming season. If only it were that easy. But is it not, unfortunately.
I stood so long at a door which, although not open, but at least ajar, was a bright sparkle in her squeezed through, a tantalizing temptation of light. As long I stood before it and weighed what I should decide. To open at last, to make the first step across the threshold after all these years, finally for the chance that that my illusion of space behind it could collapse into itself, or continue to stand. And wait. Funny this decision is no longer with me, she was taken off me a dumb answer to my question. And now I mourn for her, the painful burden of the decision, do not remember what I've been waiting, doubt, despair. But the door remains closed.