The grass is still damp as you kneel at your girlfriend's grave, the sun picking a hell of a time to make an appearance. As cliche as it may be, you can't help but think that the rain is much better suited for this occasion. Then again, you think, this was typical Tara. She always could always find the sun even in the darkest of moments.
Your heart feels as if it's breaking in two as you pay the first visit to your girlfriend in her eternal resting place since your anger and despair manifested itself in what your friends were now referring to as "Dark Willow" - the heartbroken form of yourself that tortured your girlfriend's killer and attempted to destroy the world.
You've been gone for several months to seek help for your magic addiction, yet you still struggle with accepting the death of the love of your life. Part of you still believes that the moment you're at home and curled up with your book, she'll walk through that door again. Half of her mouth will twitch up in that smile that you've always adored and she'll beg you to just be kissing her again.
You think back to your breakup. How hurt she had been when you used magic to, ironically, make her forget that she was upset about you using so much magic. Everything seemed like it had been falling apart then. Nothing felt real. A world full of color had become completely black and white without the girl that had brought you such magnificent light. As much as you had wanted to rely on your magic to heal you, you knew that it had to end if you were ever going to have that back in your life. As lifeless as you had felt during the breakup, it was then that you realized that there was no one else for you. Tara was it. You knew that if you were ever lucky enough to get her back, she would be your forever.
So when Tara came back, begging for the two of you to just skip the in between, for you to just be kissing her, you didn't even think twice about giving up your magic completely. Instead, you kissed her as if your life depended on it. Time seemed to stop. The world seemed to cease to exist as the two of you reconnected on a level that you didn't even know existed up until that point. After making love throughout the entirety of the night, as well as the next day, you begrudgingly decided that you two needed to join the real world again, if only for a few hours. You remember the way she pouted; the way she had tried and nearly succeeded in seducing you once again. You remember the way her smile ignited firecrackers in the pit of your belly, making it next to impossible to say no to her. Sometimes you wonder what would have happened if you given into her; if you had crawled back into bed with her and just allowed yourself to be wrapped up in her love for another couple of hours. You're sure that Tara would still be alive. That you'd be somewhere with her, your fingers intertwined, sneaking desperate, needy kisses. Instead, you grinned at her - told her that you had the rest of your lives to make love. And you had meant it. After all that the two of you had gone through, you knew that there was no chance you were letting her go again. She had smiled back at you, echoing your promise of forever. Not five minutes later, the promise fell short.
"Your shirt," she had muttered before the sickening sound of gunshots had even registered in your ears, concerned for her girlfriend until her very last breath.
Eyes closed, you place your palm flat down on the ground in front of you, familiar yet unwritten memories rushing through your mind. Images of the woman who's name is embedded on the tombstone before you, standing with her hands in yours as she promises her life to you, rocking a small child as you watch on from the doorway, aged thirty years and still smiling that same old crooked smile you fell in love with all those years ago.
The lump that you were sure had taken up permanent residence in your throat so many months ago finally betrays you, packing up and releasing itself from your lips in a choking sob.
It is then that you finally put into words what you've known since the first moment your palm first touched hers - terror and excitement flowing through your entire being in the UC Sunnydale laundry room.
"I would have loved you all my life."