I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts moving a million times slower than they should have. I wasn't drunk, but I felt like it. I wasn't dead, but I felt like it. I wasn't slpit in half, but I felt like it. What am I supposed to do now? My life never had meaning before Buffy. And I don't think I can face the world, even the lamest parts, without her. Anya... Anya is the woman I love. Buffy is the woman I devoted my life to. There is a difference, but Buffy... Buffy shouldn't be my priority, yet somehow she always has been. Always would have been. But now... I have nothing. When Buffy's cold, dead, unmoving body was shoved into that coffin, I knew, my soul was there with her. And I can't take back all those years, all that love, all that time. I can't take back anything. So all of me... Is encassed in that tomb with her.
I know... I know Anya should be my everything. But as long as Buffy was alive, Buffy was my everything. Buffy could never be *mine*, but she could be my everything til the day I died. Not the vis versa. Buffy is what I defend, what I fight for, what I live for. Without her, I don't know. I just don't know. I love Buffy, I know I love Buffy, but I don't love like Angel, like Spike, like her mother, like her friend, like I love Anya. But I loved her the way she needed, when she needed, how she needed. Sometimes funny, sometimes gentle, sometimes more than enough, sometimes not enough, sometimes rough. And I know there was nothing I could do. But there was something I should have done. There had to be. I could... I couldn't have stopped her, but I could have let her know, in death, I will love her forever. Maybe she didn't know. Maybe, if I had told her, I wouldn't be staring at the cieling now, wishing I had done that. Wishing she could be here, listening to the depressing mix of songs Will had burned for me.
I can't feel sorry for myself. I don't. I feel sorry for Buffy. But somehow I know, if she could do that, she isn't somewhere unhappy. That if she could leave us, *smiling*, that she was happy. But I miss her. And if I make it simple, that is reason enough to be sad. Not enough people who I love have died. If so many died before Buffy, mabye I could cope better. I don't know. I don't think death is something someone can get used to. But it hurts. Its hurts a hell of a lot more than people say.
And I'm not the only one. I'm not the only one who loved Buffy. But I feel like it. No one talks. And I can't talk about it if no one else does. I can say anything if no one else does. I can't be a leader, I'm a follower. Buffy was my leader. Now, I'm all alone again abd there lies me not saying anything. Anya! I can tell Anya!
"An, honey! I need to talk to you!" I yelled, hoping Anya would be able to. I don't know if she would understand. Understand why it hurt me so bad. Why I loved her the way I did and why I didn't love Buffy the same. Anya was like a child, albeit fully formed in the right places, but she had an intense need to be heard and her passionate desires met.
"If this about the stain on the couch..."
"No, I need to talk to you about Buffy." Anya gave me a funny look.
"Buffy is dead, Xander. You don't talk about dead people."
"You see, that's not true. You have to talk about dead people. Otherwise, they don't live on in your heart. And I want Buffy to live forever with me. Like all the people I love."
"But then why now? She died awhile ago, Xander. You could have said something."
"I should have, but I'm saying it now."
"Okay, we can talk about Buffy."
"Well, I just wonder, did she know?"
"Did she know what?"
"That I loved her."
"I think she did. I think she had to. See, the way I think of it, she did that, that dying thing, for you. For you and Giles and Willow and me and Spike and Dawn and everyone else because she knew you loved her and that you would be able to go on. Without her."
"But I can't! Didn't she know I can't?!" I felt all the frustration come out in those simple words. It wasn't about anything but those words.
"Xander..." Anya tried, but I wasn't hearing it. I had to... I had to know why I was so lonely and sad and lost and confused... I had to let go of this pain, and with this pain and this love, Buffy.
"No! She had to know that I love her! She had to know that I lived here, this life, pretended not to see the pain and destruction and death surrounding me *because* of her, when I did and I prayed and prayed that it would stop, but it never did! IT NEVER DID! AND BUFFY DIED! BUFFY KILLED HERSELF! She left me... She left me with nothing. And if you leave nothing, no one has anything to hold on to. And I need something to hold on to!"
"Xander, she left you."
"What?"
"You have you. She left what you have become. Without Buffy, you would have never met me, or Giles, or Spike, or Dawn. You would have never led this life. And you would have never learned these lessons. And you would have never loved this love. Buffy made you and Buffy left you, you. So, that's how you can live on, Xander. Remembering Buffy is still teaching you, still loving you, just not next to you."
And then, I let go. Buffy was not gone. Buffy was here, forever.
This is a roundrobin story. Would you like to contribute?
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Rave
Barbie Girl (Becca)
biscuit07
Filmtheory (Jim)
Malice (Jess)
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Reset (Allie)
Shay (Marrisa)
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Stephanie Loss
Wendyness (Wendy)
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