destructo-girl.com

Author: Samantha
Email: sammer77@aol.com
Notes: The song reference is "I Can't Make You Love Me" by Bonnie Raitt.

I watch her as she sleeps and I know that the emotions I see flash across her face have nothing to do with me. The furrowed brow, the tiny smiles, the tears—they are all on account of him. She still loves him. She always has. And I have always known that. Even from the first night she spent here, I knew. That was the reason she turned to me in the first place.

I touch my hand to her cheek just to assure myself that she’s really here. That it’s really her pressed against me. And I don’t want to let her go. Not ever. But I know I can’t hold on to her. No matter how hard I try, she always slips through my fingers.

Turn down the lights, turn down the bed
Turn down these voices inside my head
Lay down with me, tell me no lies
Just hold me close, don’t patronize
Don’t patronize me

She came to me tonight, needing from me what she has been searching for all these months—refuge. Refuge from reality, refuge from her broken heart, refuge from the loneliness that eats her up inside.

I almost didn’t let her in. I heard her knock—soft but insistent—and knew exactly who it was. She’s the only person in the world who ever shows up on my doorstep in the middle of the night. And I had to fight for each step I took to the door to answer it.

She stood in the hallway, her eyes crying out to me for help. Something happened tonight. I don’t know what. I didn’t ask, she didn’t tell. That’s the way it goes. The less I know, the better off I am. Because the last thing I want to hear is the fact that I am her surrogate Riley. Even though I know I am. I can’t deny it.

But I can’t resist her either. So like so many nights before—all the same and yet each one distinct—I let her in. She needed me and I needed to help her. She asked me to take her pain away, to help her forget. So I tried. Did I succeed? I doubt it. I am acutely aware of how one-sided the emotion is every time we make love. I know that while her arms are holding me, her heart is holding him. And I wish I could change that, but I can’t.

‘Cause I can’t make you love me if you don’t
You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t
Here in the dark, in these final hours
I will lay down my heart and I’ll feel the power
But you won’t, no you won’t
‘Cause I can’t make you love me if you don’t

She stirs against me and I look down at her, into her face. It is tilted slightly towards mine and for a moment I think she is going to open her eyes. Part of me wants her to, wants her to look at me and finally realize that it’s me here with her and not him. That it’s me who is holding her and loving her. But she doesn’t open her eyes. Instead, she lets out a gentle sigh and rolls over, out of my embrace. And my first instinct is to pull her back to me. But I don’t. I just watch as the shadows dance across the smooth, tanned skin of her back. And I study the way her hair falls haphazardly over the pillow.

I look away and close my eyes, trying to remember everything that happened tonight. I try to remember how she felt under my hands, the taste of her lips, the smell of her skin, the sound of her voice in my ear. Because I know that this is the last night she will come to me. The look in her eyes told me everything I needed but didn’t want to know. It is over.

So I asked her to stay. Just a little bit longer. I just need a little more time to let her go.

I’ll close my eyes, then I won’t see
The love you don’t feel when you’re holding me
Morning will come and I’ll do what’s right
Just give me ‘til then to give up this fight
And I will give up this fight

I have lost my heart to her. Every time she came to me, I lost another piece of myself. She has no idea just how much her pain has cost me. But I gave willingly and have no one to blame but myself. I could have said no. I could have walked away. But I didn’t. I continued to let her in, each time hoping that when I looked in her eyes, I would see myself and not him. But it never happened.

I don’t know when exactly it was that I fell in love with her. Maybe I was in love with her long before any of this happened. I don’t know. All I know is that I need her like I need air to breathe and that I am dreading the sunrise. Because with the first, pink rays of sunlight comes the reality that I really have to let her go.

She stirs again and I open my eyes to look at her. This time her eyes are open and she is looking at me. She reaches her hand out and I take it without question. "What’s wrong?" I ask softly, rubbing smooth circles across the back of her hand with my thumb. "Did you have a nightmare?"

She shakes her head slowly and squeezes my hand. "Graham," she manages to say. And I see her look away, as if she is searching for the right words. "Graham," she says again, still not looking at me.

I would rather her not say anything because I know her words are not what I want to hear. But I don’t stop her. I can’t. So I wait.

"I want you to know…" she begins again, finally turning to face me. Her eyes are wet and I can see her struggling within.

I try to smile reassuringly at her, but it doesn’t work. So instead I whisper through the lump in my throat, "Buffy, you don’t have to say anything…."

But she sits up and moves closer to me and looks into my eyes. "I know I have hurt you, Graham. I can see it in your face. I have taken from you and have offered you nothing in return." She pauses, and a tear rolls silently down her cheek. But before I can brush it away, she does so herself quickly in one swift motion. Then she speaks again. "I’m sorry for hurting you. For being the cause of the pain I see in your eyes. I hope you can forgive me…."

Her words break my already battered heart and I don’t know what to say. All I can do is brush my fingers across her cheek and whisper, "There’s nothing to forgive, Buffy."

She stares at me with those wide, child-like eyes of hers, so full of sorrow and regret. And I wish I could do something to wash it all away, to make her smile. God knows I’ve tried. God knows she’s tried to find what she was looking for in my arms. But it wasn’t enough. I know that now. And I accept it.

I look over her shoulder and out the window, my heart suddenly sinking as I realize it’s almost dawn. "It’s morning," I mutter, not realizing I did so out loud.

I see her follow my gaze out the window and watch silently as the world becomes cast in the faintest pink glow. Then she whispers, "No, not yet. Not quite yet. We have a little more time."

And she reaches for me and pushes me down onto the pillows, wrapping her arms around me and resting her head on my chest. "Close your eyes," I hear her whisper to me. "It’s still dark if you close your eyes."

So I do. I willingly prolong this charade just to have a few more minutes with her. I have to. It’s all I’ve got left.

The End