Anger, Denial, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance
by Laura Shapiro
Of course I always knew the odds. I knew that I would live to see you die. No matter how often I envisaged it (and it was oftener then was probably healthy), I could never escape the inevitable conclusion that, however it happened, it would be my fault.
My fault, for not having trained you hard enough. My fault, for not be able to give you the information you needed. Not being there. Taking my eyes off you for one second, the wrong second.
How could I have let it get this far? How could I let you persist in this madness, this insane notion that Dawn was the only thing that mattered? Mattered more than the world. More than you.
It might interest you to know that Dawn is in foster care now. I've petitioned the courts for the right to her custody, but with my history it's unlikely that it will be awarded me. For some reason no one thinks that a bachelor who spends all his free time with children makes a good candidate for a parent. Can't imagine why.
I'm sure the McAllums are fine people...well, no, actually, I'm not sure of that it all. Dawn is a ghost of what she was, isn't that ironic.
She's miserable, Buffy, and she's alone, because you took from her the last shred of her family, robbed her of the one thing, the one person she could depend on. Alone, because you were so stubborn, so selfish.
God *damn* you. How dare you? You had no right!
I could never reason with you, once your mind was made up, no matter the odds. No matter the risks. You followed your heart.
I told you I was proud. I lied.
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No. This isn't how it works. This is not how itÕs supposed to work.
You can't be gone, it doesn't make any sense. It should have been Dawn, or Spike, or me, even, but not you.
It doesn't work that way.
We followed you. I don't even remember when it happened, but we started just automatically doing whatever you said. But, see, the thing was, you were always right. It always worked out, before.
Pretty much.
You left before, but you always came back. I found Tara, even. And Glory's dead and Dawn's okay and the world didn't end, so you just have to be...
I found Tara. I could...I could find you. I could bring you back. That book -- where's that book --
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Anya and I are getting married. I wanted to tell you first. I was even going to ask you to be my best man.
That's why you have to come back, Buf. You know you can't resist me in a tux. And hey, cake and stuff. Cakey goodness.
Did you know that I finally...stopped? I mean, I haven't even been checking out your ass lately. Not that I'm blind, I mean, I still look at other girls, but you're -- Buffy. Somehow I just stopped thinking of you like that. You're just -- Buffy.
Hey, that's not why you...is it? I mean, if you come back, I promise I'll start checking out your ass again.
God. OK, that was probably rude and in very bad taste.
You know you gotta come back, Buf. You don't want to miss the wedding.
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What's left for me, then?
Can't bite people, don't even much want to. Not much point in fighting the forces of so-called evil without you around. Can't seem to get interested. Sodding robot's not even reparable. Not that Red would fix it if I asked her to. Bloody defamation, she'd say.
Your scoobs come around sometimes. Me and Giles will have a few, get pissed, argue until one of us falls asleep. The others bring me blood once in awhile. Getting rarer, though. No excuse for hanging round with a bloody useless, soulless vampire who can't even --
Little Bit's gone, you know, love. New family are rich bastards who will not invite the likes of me in. Not good enough for 'em. Not good enough for anyone, seems like.
I can't protect her for you, even though I promised. They pick her up after school and she's got a curfew and that. The one time I tried sneaking up to her window at night the bloody dog tore half my leg off. Hope she likes the dog, anyway.
I'm fucking useless. Didn't realize until you were gone. When they defanged me, I went a bit mad, thought I'd off myself. Then I had this reason not to.
Now I've got no reason. Now I've got nothing.
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I understand why you did it. I mean, I would've done it for you. I tried to, but you wouldn't let me.
But I get it now. I thought a lot about it, about what you said right before. And now I'm trying to stand it. I am standing it. I'm trying to be worth it.
It's so hard sometimes, Buffy. It feels like there's a piece of me missing. Not even mom...it didn't feel like this.
The McAllums are nice. I hate them. It's kind of good, hating them. It gives me something else to think about.
I'll be glad when school starts again.
We haven't figured out who the new Slayer is, if there is one. Giles said she might not even get sent to Sunnydale after what happened to the last two.
Giles comes over a lot. I think he freaks them out a little, but they let him come over. He doesn't talk much, but he brings me books.
Xander and Anya are letting me be in the wedding. They're not having it right away; Xander says we're still in mourning and it wouldn't be right, but you can tell Anya thinks we should start partying as soon as possible. You'd like my dress. It's pink.
I'm sorry for all the times I yelled at you and shut myself up in my room and borrowed your clothes without asking. Oh, and when I was younger, I read your diary. I really am sorry about that, but I was only nine. There wasn't anything good in it anyway.
I miss you so much, Buffy. Sometimes I still cry and cry and cry. Other times I feel so proud of you I could just explode. Sometimes, like now, I feel guilty. You did it for me. How can I ever deserve that?
But then I think about what you said, about how you chose
it. And I just hope you found what you were looking for.
END