Summary: Angel thinks about Buffy and her life
without him. Very angsty. (I
needed to vent.)
Spoilers: *Through* In The Dark.
Disclaimer: Joss made the characters. I like to think he did it so that I
would be able to mess with them on occasion.
Rating: PG
Feedback: It's addictive, ya know.
Tracy betas, and she does a wonderful job. :) So thanks, Trace.
by:
Amy
* * * * * *
I didn't want to believe his words. He's always hated
me in that way that a
childe hates his sire, but he's loved me too, and he's almost always been
honest. So, against every strain of my heart, I did believe him. I had to.
Because I knew that he wasn't lying to me, not about this.
It's hard for a lover to learn that the one person capable of making him
happy has moved on, even though he's told her to. I looked into Spike's
eyes, denying my pain with my retort, but secretly dwelling in it in the
dark
of my soul.
It was what hurt me the most, the knowledge that Buffy no longer waited for
me. In the hours I spent under mind-numbing torture, that simple fact was
what caused me the most pain.
I told her to let go of me. I told her that it wasn't possible, the love
between us. I told her that I wanted her to find a man who could see her
in
the sun and give her children and make love to her. It's unfair of me, I
know, but when she took my advice, I felt completely lost for the first time
since I had met her. She's no longer mine to claim. I gave up that right
when I broke her heart by telling her that I was leaving.
But knowing that isn't the same as living it. Knowing that she needs to move
on isn't the same as knowing that she has. They're two totally different
worlds, which I suppose is understandable, as Buffy and I are from different
worlds, ourselves.
But it hurts nonetheless.
I don't want to give her up. I don't want to ever have to face life without
the smell and taste of her, without the way she looks when she wakes up,
without the light, breathy sounds she makes when I kiss her. But I have to
surrender her to the unknown, and I have to do it soon. Because if I don't,
she'll be locked in the cage that I told her I was freeing her from.
* * * * * *
I saw the sun.
I saw the sun, and through the complete majesty and wonder of it, the only
thing that was missing was Buffy. The only thing that could have made it
perfect, could have made the day perfect was Buffy's presence there; by my
side, her small hand in mine, her head resting against my shoulder. It's
one
of my many regrets, that I'll never get to see her in the sunlight.
I toyed with the idea of keeping the ring, keeping it and only wearing it
when I was going to see her. I thought that, maybe, it would be fair that
way. Doyle was telling the truth in a way when he said that the ring could
be my redemption.
But redemption has to be earned. It's not something that's just found or
taken.
And that was one of the reasons why I destroyed it right then, right there.
The other reason was that I knew, if I kept the ring to see Buffy, that the
temptation to wear it would overcome my will, and I would be left helpless
to
the light of day. I was honest about what that would do to me.
And though it's one of my greatest wishes, though I hadn't seen the glorious
beauty of the sun in over two hundred years, I knew that I couldn't keep
the
ring.
I can't seem to keep anything that's precious to me.
* * * * * *
I think about these things a lot, though time has passed. I think about
Buffy, finding a new love. And I know, deep down, that she really hasn't.
I
know that I'll always hold a place inside of her memory, which is just and
right and good, even as it's wrong. And a place inside of her heart, which
is so scarred by my love that I'll be truly happy if she does open it to
someone else.
These thoughts are wrong for me to have. I need to let her go.
I tell myself that often. It's what I ponder when I'm sitting alone in the
dark. I think about how impossible it will be to let her go, and how I will
hate having to do it. How, when I finally do release her fully from my
grasp, she'll become more beautiful and shining because of it, and how she
deserves that. I think about the way I seem to fall into her eyes whenever
I
meet them, the way her skin feels velvety next to mine, the way her hair
glistens under the light of the moon.
I think about all of these things, and I come to a decision every night.
I'll stop thinking about her and wishing for her presence and praying for
her
to be near. I'll let go of her. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I won't let myself
think about her grace or strength or wit or how much I love her.
But tonight, I'll let myself surrender.
The End