She sat on her window ledge, thinking about how much she missed Angel. It had been two months since Buffy last saw him, walking away through the smoke after graduation. Angel's handsome face haunted her, remaining in the forefront of her mind, no matter how much she tried to push it back. Nothing ever worked, her love would not leave her memory; it was etched in there for eternity.

Lately I've been trying
to fill up my days since you're gone.
The speed of love is blinding
and I didn't know how to hold on

Her mind wouldn't focus on anything except him. She always felt as if Angel might show up during her patrol through the park or the cemetery. But he never did.

Willow tried her best to get Buffy out of her depression. Shopping trips to the mall, partying at the Bronze, even a week-long visit with her father in Los Angeles did nothing to cheer her up. It was as if her whole reason for existing had disappeared. And to her, it had when Angel left for his undisclosed destination.

Buffy wondered what hit was she did wrong; what she said or did to make him go away. For two months, she recalled every conversation, every event that took place between them, hoping she'd remember what triggered his decision. With the exception of the Mayor's words of warning to them, nothing out of the ordinary came to mind.

My mind won't clear; I'm out of tears.
My heart's got no room left inside.
How many dreams will end?
How long can I pretend?
How many times will love pass me by
until I find you again?

Buffy had long-since stopped crying over Angel. While it still upset her to think about their last, awkward conversation in the library, she couldn't cry about anymore. The tears would not come, despite her efforts. No amount of tears would bring her love back; Buffy accepted it.

The thought of moving on with her life frightened her. Finding a new boyfriend was something she did not want to fathom. No man could ever take his place; Angel's were big shoes to fill. So big that Buffy believed no other man could, or would, ever fill them. She only saw her future with him, only wanted her future to be with him. When she found him again.

The move was nearly complete. All the boxes and furniture were inside the basement apartment of the building he bought, and all Angel had left to do was decorate. Putting the last touches on his new home would complete the move.

Reaching into the large box at his feet, he pulled out a framed photo of Buffy. Angel stared at it for a long time, longing to see her. He'd certainly thought about her, like every waking moment. The blonde beauty plagued his thoughts. He missed her more than anything.

//Will the arms of hope surround me?

Will time be a fair-weather friend?

Should I call out to angels?

Or just drink myself sober again?\\

Angel hoped he'd don the right thing by leaving her. His head told him he had; she would be able to have somewhat of a normal life without him in the picture. But his heart told him something totally different. He wanted to be with Buffy, despite his noble gestures and what people around them said.

What had scared him most was what the Mayor had said to him. How Buffy would grow old and die while he would remain youthful. His dream of their wedding verified his fears that it was a certainty that Buffy would die first. Angel could not face it. Didn't want to.

He'd prayed for the first time in centuries; prayed for a sign that he did the right thing. When laying alone in his bed, or out hunting vampires in his efforts to rid the world of them, Angel doubted his decision. He kept in contact with Giles, who told him how depressed Buffy was. It took all of his self-control not to drive the two hours to Sunnydale and see her. No, he couldn't do that to her.

I can't hide, it's true.
I still burn for you.
Your memory just won't let me go.
How many dreams will end?
How long can I pretend?
How many time will love pass me by
until I find you again?

Every morning when he climbed into bed, his arms ached to hold her; his lips ached to kiss her. He couldn't, or wouldn't, deny it. Buffy carried a piece of him he never wanted back -- his heart. It belonged only to her for the rest of his days.

No other woman compared to her, none even came close. He forever belonged to her, no matter who else tried to take Buffy's place.

In bars, while tailing vampires or just watching the other people, women would come up to him. They toted their pick-up lines, flirted uncontrollably, brushed up to him seductively with their scantily-clad bodies. But Angel always went home alone. He didn't want just anybody. He wanted Buffy.

I'd hold you tighter,
closer than ever before.
No flame would burn brighter.
If I could just touch you once more,
hold you once more...

Climbing onto the roof landing outside her window, Buffy hugged her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. She closed her eyes and imagined that Angel was coming back to her. He'd say he made a terrible mistake and would never leave her again.

It was only her imagination, though. She wanted so badly to hold him, kiss him, and tell him how much she loved him. Buffy berated herself for not saying something to Angel after graduation. They'd never even said good-bye, not that she'd wanted to. Good-bye was too permanent. She would find him again someday; see him again. She forced herself to believe it.

How many dreams will end?
How long can I pretend?
How many time will love pass me by
until I find you again?
Until I find you...again...

Angel placed the picture of Buffy on the table next to his bed. If he could not wake up with her in his arms, he would make sure her face was still the first thing he saw.

He knew he'd see her again; he had to see her again. Needed to see her again. Angel didn't know how long it would be until he came face to face with Buffy. But he swore to himself that he would see her again. Someday, they'd find their way back to each other. He'd make sure of it.

The End

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