"You show up at the Prom, and then you disappear into the Ozone. For all I know you left town" – Buffy "Graduation Day Part Two"

I look back now as I slip through the white noise and think that if we hadn't had the night after the Prom, I might not have pulled through at all. I would have turned inward and let the brightness of the sun suck me into a world of blankness. But we had that night--

Not that it was good. It wasn't, and the thought of it still makes my breath hitch. I think it just made me realize things were really over.

After we danced, he stepped away from me and I made a sound deep in my throat, like a moan- like an animal would cry as it died. I knew it was over, our trip down the tricky passages of memory- our nostalgic dance where we pretended nothing was ending- least of all us. He was stronger than me, and he started to walk away, but I stopped him with my hand.

"Can you walk me home?" I asked him quietly, blandly, and he looked like he was in pain, but he nodded and lightly grasped my elbow.

"Thanks," I added, and hoped he would feel guilty. There was a time when it wouldn't have been a question- him walking me home. He just would have done it. But now… I had to ask. I had to slurp up those moments and not let them get caught between my teeth. I had to savour them- because he was going to take them all away. When we stepped out into the night, I breathed in deeply and felt the muskiness go straight to my lungs.

"So what should we do now?" I asked him brightly and he cast a glance my way, obviously confused.

"I'm walking you home."

"Don't be such a stick in the proverbial mud, Angel," I choked out, attempting casualness as I felt the world I had clung to for so long slipping away. "Let's go slay some vamps. Or we could go get frozen yoghurt. Get drunk… be kids…"

He laughed harshly. "I'll never be a kid."

"So you love to remind yourself every two seconds," I muttered bitterly under my breath and he rounded on me with impotently furious eyes.

"I didn't ask to walk you tonight," he pointed out with devastating accuracy and I felt my chest squeeze. I wanted to scream at him or stab him until the pristine white shirt ran with red. But I didn't. Looking back, I wish I had. Something should have marked that moment. We were in new territory. I would never fully understand just how new until the night I caught him with Faith in his arms and he slapped me across the face. A bruise formed there- on that bone his hand poisoned- and it never went away. I always thought it had- but it never did.

"I guess you're right," I sighed wearily. "But I just wanted to have one last night. One last hurrah, you know… before you leave town."

"Too hard for me," he said shortly, and spun away. He didn't want to look at me. Were my naïve eyes too difficult for him to take in? "I can't be around you. It's easier for me if I'm not."

I laughed and grabbed his arm, heard a seam in my dress tear with one long sickening rip as I turned him around and slapped him as hard as I could. "Maybe I don't want to make this *easy* for you, you fucking bastard! Maybe I don't want you to be able to just run away like the coward you are—"

He tried to fling me away, and his face was desperate. Was I just a vine around his ankles then? Drowning him in a huge ocean that he couldn't swim in…? "I'm trying to do what's best!" he shouted at me, and his voice was so frightening raised in his rage that all I heard was gibberish. Blurrily, I gazed up at the man I for so long thought I'd marry. I used to have dreams with sharp images of white dresses and little children. All blown away now. He's strapped up his gun, kissed the tip, and now he's gonna get the hell out of this town. Away from me.

"I know this part," I murmured and stepped away, my knees shaking. "You're trying to think with your head and not your heart."

He glanced at me, and his mouth was just a slash across his face. I remember the way he looked then- like an animal about to be shot. He wanted to be somewhere else, and I couldn't blame him. Me, with all my destructive love, just wanted him to gather me up and strip off my dress and make me shudder and come and scream in hot hungry pants. I recall thinking that if I went down on my knees- would he fuck me and make me his again…? Would he take me away from all the bombs going off in my head… would he stop this talk of going away and just stay… stay for me so I wouldn't die? Would he stay and watch my back for all time if I asked?

No, he wouldn't. That was clear. Angel took a few faltering steps away from me and turned his face to the moon. It shone out of his eyes and he looked feral and I wanted him so much in that moment that I would have done anything. Anything to make him stay. I felt pathetic. But it didn't stop me from wishing… wishing things were different. Wishing myself two years in the past when we were still taking those first tentative steps toward each other.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, and oh God, his voice. His beautiful voice. I closed my eyes and fell to my knees, watching the dirt scrape the expensive fabric of the dress I made Mom buy me.

"I know you are. But it's over," I said and felt the crushing finality. I felt it and I bore it, swallowing back the hot sting of vomit that crept up my throat. Gulped down the hysterical screams as I finally comprehended…

Angel and I were no more. No matter what I did, he was going to leave me and leave us and leave this fucking town for greener pastures, and there was not a goddamn thing I could do to stop him.

I stood up, and brushed myself off. I faced him and he looked guilty and sad and terrified and angry all at once as he whispered, "I could still walk you home. One last time."

I looked at him and shook my blonde head, catching him drinking in the glint of my hair and the sheen of my skin. "No thanks. I have to get used to it."

As I walked away, he called after me, reluctantly, softly; "Get used to what?"

I turned, just slightly, and flashed him a bitter smile. "Being alone. Bye Angel."

~~

It's funny the things you remember as you die. I am diving into endless blue and white seas and it hurts, and all I can think about is the night when I realized I was alone. Because I would always be alone without him.

It didn't matter what Rileys or Parkers came through my eye-line- no one would ever walk with me again.

I walk alone.

As my eyes slowly close for the last time, I say a silent thank you, to him. For teaching me enough to make this final sacrifice. And for breaking my heart enough to make it easier.

It's easy to leave this world when you're already dead.

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