Sometimes I wonder why I exist. Not in the existence of humans, just me. There are plenty in the world that have done good for the world, and many in the future who will as well. Me though..I'm just…here. I've never made a huge contribution to society. I'm not spectacular at anything. The only thing I'm really good for…or at least was good for, was to make sure the house was spotless and bellies always full. Of course, I was also the one that…allowed for them to lash out at in their time of need. Whenever I breathed wrong, it seemed like, they were there, watching and waiting for me to mess up again. Of course, back then, I would have believed that I walked wrong, that I was a demon, that I was one of the lowest things walking around on this planet. I would just sit there and let them say those things to me, let them slap and punch me as they wished—like I deserved.
Then I made this decision one day. I surprised even myself when it happened. Why Sunnydale? I don't think I'll ever know…I just felt drawn there, felt something special. At the time though, as long as I could get out of that house, that's all I cared about. Of course daddy wasn't happy, but mama had money she saved just for me, and I was able to use the bus to get me to my dream land. Daddy called it 'demonic money' for mama and I touching it. A 'sinful act' and 'sinful bus' and 'sinful thoughts' taking me to 'hell itself'. It's a little funny, now that I think about it. I suppose that bus did take me to a kind of hell, but only a hellmouth. To me, it was never hell—that's where I found the most beautiful person in existence. The best of friends a person could ask for.
Being by the most beautiful woman in existence, I love just watching her sleep. It sounds stalker-ish to others, possibly, but the only thing I have on my mind is how lucky I am that she chose me. This goddess chose me, out of the countless others in the world. She was beautiful the first time she met, and for a few brief moments, I swore our souls touched, just by a look. Turns out I was right, heh. Who knew I could be right? I thank the gods and goddesses every night for my streak of luck, and pray that she will be safe. That no harm ever come to her. I learned at a young age that the good people get the short end of the stick most of the time, and Willow was definitely good. Pristine, serene. A dozen other words I could use to describe her, though none would be able to fully captivate her wonder and glory.
My eyes start to droop now, so I can finally stop staring at the ceiling and focus on her heartbeat. The steady thump is as calming as rain, knowing that she's safe and happy, that adorable little smile that seems to just come naturally. The smile that lets me know that she loves me with her everything, and that I'm worth something. Not just something—she told me once that I held her heart. I cried when she said that. To know that someone would entrust me with an object so precious and fragile…my own heart swelled with happiness and love. She's had my heart from the beginning, and that's where it would stay, no matter what. The last thing I hear while snuggling just a bit closer to her is: "My Tara." It causes my heart to flutter and another smile pops up. Will I ever be used that smile? Of being wanted and loved? I hope not, because it's a wonderful feeling and a wonderful smile, and I know my heart will be protected from the evil in the world.