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squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
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10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
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08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
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“I can feel it, Buffy. My soul. It’s really there. Kinda stings.”

I trusted Spike in the end. I trusted him. And that’s what it all comes down to. In order to love him, I had to trust him. And that’s why I couldn’t love him. Because I didn’t trust him before. He hadn’t really given me a reason.

“No. You beat them back. It’s for me to do the clean up.”

And there’s so much I could’ve said, starting with those two words. Maybe when we have time, we can sit and talk, without anyone else around. Maybe when this is all over, we can have some we time and find out who we are and where we are with each other. Maybe when we’re ready, we can finally have it like we want. Maybe when I’m ready, we can try it out, see if we really have a chance together. Because I trust you, I believe in you, I finally love you.

“Get a move on lamb. I think it’s fair to say school’s out for the bloody summer.”

Except…he isn’t there, now that it’s all over. I was standing at the crater, looking at it as the sign teetered over the edge and I had to smile. Because, for once, he didn’t do it for me. Well…maybe a little. Just not completely.

“I mean it. I gotta do this.”

But he did do it from himself. And I continue living, trying to go, be normal-or somewhat-without him. Then list has changed a bit.

“No. You don’t. But thanks for saying it.”

Maybe when I’m walking through a cemetery, it’ll hit me that he’s really gone. Maybe when I’m riding on that yellow school bus to wherever the hell we’re going because, face it, I’m damn sure not going to Angel, not now. Maybe when we’re finding the slayers. Maybe when Dawn accidentally says something only he would say and everyone looks at me, expecting me to run out the room sobbing. Maybe when I’m taking a shower, I’ll break down in sobs. Maybe when I’m sleeping and dream of him.

“It’s your world up there. Now go.”

Maybe when I see a leather coat in a store window. Maybe when I get this tingle that’s different from Angel’s while I’m on the dance floor with the Immortal. Maybe it’s when I’m on a date with the Immortal and Dawn runs into the restaurant, holding a letter and crying. Maybe it’s when I read it, and I realize that he was back and I might have lost him again. Maybe it’s when I’m meeting the ground because this is too much. Angel’s letter is too much. Or…or maybe it’s when, days later, I’m sitting on my couch and rereading the letter, and at the very bottom, I see words I’d faintly heard a little over a year ago. Words that I knew weren’t from Angel.

“I wanna see how it ends.”




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