The Princess
By: charisma
Summary: After Buffy's death, Angel reflects on the relationship they had, and reason that he left her after her graduation. Told from Angel's POV. Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, or Buffy Summers. The brilliant yet cruel Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy do, sadly. Reviewing: Please, please review! I love reviews, good or bad, so bring them on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Everyone deserves a fairy tale story. The prince and the princess, the white horse riding to the castle as the sun slowly sets in the distance. But that never happens; life is never a fairy tale, never does a dream come true. It never will be, and no matter how much we try we will never have the life in those fairy tale stories, the ones that are perfect, without pain and suffering.
I should know; after all, I'm a demon.
I've hurt more than I've healed. I've killed more than I've saved. My immortal life has caused more pain and suffering than even I can bear. As a creature of the night, I know in my very being that life isn't fair, that it's bad, that it brings more sadness than happiness. It hurts us and tears us apart, and people refuse to see that. But sometimes denial is bliss, and denial is something I'm good at.
I always was.
She was my sunshine, my bright light in the dark tunnel. When I met her, I knew that for the rest of my undead life I would love no other. All cotton candy and sweet light, she was forced to become a killer, a bringer of death. She became the woman I love.loved. Imagine that, a Slayer and a Vampire in love. It was wrong, but at the same time, it was so right. After all, we both have our darkness, our pain and suffering. Hers was just different than mine.
But I knew that she always hurted inside.
Maybe our love became too strong to fast. We were full of passion, and she made me feel like a man. I will always love her for bringing humanity back into my very soul. But sometime along the way, I knew that she only loved me because she believed in an image that I never could be. She wanted me to be something that I never would, and soon she began to resent me for my lack of it. I couldn't offer anything but my love, pure and simple
I never stopped loving her.
She wanted me to be sexy, strong, caring, loving. Everything but the last became tiring, fake. But she wanted her perfect life, and having me act human was as close as she was going to get. If I was human, than maybe she would have been happier. All she ever wanted was to be normal, and I know that because I was a vampire she resented me, even if she loved me.
Sometimes we hate the ones we love.
I know that she loved me, but it was a love tinged with sadness and pain. We could only ever bring each other pain, and I left because I realized that. She did know it too in her deep heart, but she was in denial. All she could see was her image of the perfect boyfriend, the one stable thing in her crazy, confusing life. Even if I loved her more than life itself, it was never enough. She could only see that fairy tale story, and she wanted everything to be that way.
Denial is a nice place.
Love doesn't endure everything, it doesn't make all the problems go away. It might last forever, but it fades over time. Once so strong, the love has turned into a dull ache that resides in my heart. After all, she's gone, and all I'm left with is the memories of a bittersweet love that was never meant to be. Our love was forbidden, and sometimes I wonder if that's why she wanted me so much. Maybe her love was only a pretense to her hidden desires of never having someone that you want.
All teenagers dream of a forbidden love.
When she died, I couldn't even begin to realize how deep the hole of misery went. I knew that I owed my saviour status to her, because without her I would still be that vampire in the New York slums. She tried to bring me into the light, and I went as far as I could go before I got burned. But the light she brought into my heart will outshine the sun any day. She could always outshine the sunshine with her beauty, energy, and open heart. She always gave her love freely, and protected those she loved.
But she didn't want to have to protect me.
She always suffered. I tried to ease her suffering, but I couldn't. It ran too deep, and it was too strong. She wouldn't let me help her.but sometimes I wondered if she even could've been helped. I had my own suffering to deal with, and she never believed that my suffering was worth anything. She always wanted me to get over it, to forget the life I had. How could I when that life was the very reason I could never be with her?
She never understood my pain.
I brooded too much, she would say. But I didn't brood, I would only think of what I could have with my love if I wasn't the disgusting demon that haunted my dreams, that always brought her anger and hurt. I didn't want anything more then to be with her, to be able to love her forever. As a man. As a human who could believe in happiness and true love. But I realized soon that maybe our love wasn't even real. That broke my heart more then anything ever could, even her death.
Maybe that's why I left.
Love is richer in the imagining than the real thing. We both knew that, but even I would say that we poured our very souls into each other. So much love, and I could never be worthy of the very goddess she was. She made everything better, and she made me forget the pain, even momentarily. Maybe.maybe that's why I loved her so much. The irony of it all. She loved me because I was her prince, and I loved her because she was my angel.
We loved something that neither of us could ever be.
So here I am, locked in my room as the sun slowly sets. Cordelia wants me to come out, but I won't. Not until I can memorize every detail about her, every single moment I spent with her. No matter how painful or fake our love, it was more real than most people can ever expect to have. All I need to know was that she loved me, and I loved her. Her death will never end that, and instead it only ended her suffering, and bitterness.
It ended her hopes of that perfect life.
I could never be her prince in shining armor, coming to save her from the darkness. I could only bring her into it. She could never be the princess, even if she was the princess of my heart; that was never enough. The white horse would never come to take us away to our perfect life, and the sun would never shine down on us. Life isn't perfect, and it never will be. Fairy tales lie.
By: charisma
Summary: After Buffy's death, Angel reflects on the relationship they had, and reason that he left her after her graduation. Told from Angel's POV. Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, or Buffy Summers. The brilliant yet cruel Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy do, sadly. Reviewing: Please, please review! I love reviews, good or bad, so bring them on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Everyone deserves a fairy tale story. The prince and the princess, the white horse riding to the castle as the sun slowly sets in the distance. But that never happens; life is never a fairy tale, never does a dream come true. It never will be, and no matter how much we try we will never have the life in those fairy tale stories, the ones that are perfect, without pain and suffering.
I should know; after all, I'm a demon.
I've hurt more than I've healed. I've killed more than I've saved. My immortal life has caused more pain and suffering than even I can bear. As a creature of the night, I know in my very being that life isn't fair, that it's bad, that it brings more sadness than happiness. It hurts us and tears us apart, and people refuse to see that. But sometimes denial is bliss, and denial is something I'm good at.
I always was.
She was my sunshine, my bright light in the dark tunnel. When I met her, I knew that for the rest of my undead life I would love no other. All cotton candy and sweet light, she was forced to become a killer, a bringer of death. She became the woman I love.loved. Imagine that, a Slayer and a Vampire in love. It was wrong, but at the same time, it was so right. After all, we both have our darkness, our pain and suffering. Hers was just different than mine.
But I knew that she always hurted inside.
Maybe our love became too strong to fast. We were full of passion, and she made me feel like a man. I will always love her for bringing humanity back into my very soul. But sometime along the way, I knew that she only loved me because she believed in an image that I never could be. She wanted me to be something that I never would, and soon she began to resent me for my lack of it. I couldn't offer anything but my love, pure and simple
I never stopped loving her.
She wanted me to be sexy, strong, caring, loving. Everything but the last became tiring, fake. But she wanted her perfect life, and having me act human was as close as she was going to get. If I was human, than maybe she would have been happier. All she ever wanted was to be normal, and I know that because I was a vampire she resented me, even if she loved me.
Sometimes we hate the ones we love.
I know that she loved me, but it was a love tinged with sadness and pain. We could only ever bring each other pain, and I left because I realized that. She did know it too in her deep heart, but she was in denial. All she could see was her image of the perfect boyfriend, the one stable thing in her crazy, confusing life. Even if I loved her more than life itself, it was never enough. She could only see that fairy tale story, and she wanted everything to be that way.
Denial is a nice place.
Love doesn't endure everything, it doesn't make all the problems go away. It might last forever, but it fades over time. Once so strong, the love has turned into a dull ache that resides in my heart. After all, she's gone, and all I'm left with is the memories of a bittersweet love that was never meant to be. Our love was forbidden, and sometimes I wonder if that's why she wanted me so much. Maybe her love was only a pretense to her hidden desires of never having someone that you want.
All teenagers dream of a forbidden love.
When she died, I couldn't even begin to realize how deep the hole of misery went. I knew that I owed my saviour status to her, because without her I would still be that vampire in the New York slums. She tried to bring me into the light, and I went as far as I could go before I got burned. But the light she brought into my heart will outshine the sun any day. She could always outshine the sunshine with her beauty, energy, and open heart. She always gave her love freely, and protected those she loved.
But she didn't want to have to protect me.
She always suffered. I tried to ease her suffering, but I couldn't. It ran too deep, and it was too strong. She wouldn't let me help her.but sometimes I wondered if she even could've been helped. I had my own suffering to deal with, and she never believed that my suffering was worth anything. She always wanted me to get over it, to forget the life I had. How could I when that life was the very reason I could never be with her?
She never understood my pain.
I brooded too much, she would say. But I didn't brood, I would only think of what I could have with my love if I wasn't the disgusting demon that haunted my dreams, that always brought her anger and hurt. I didn't want anything more then to be with her, to be able to love her forever. As a man. As a human who could believe in happiness and true love. But I realized soon that maybe our love wasn't even real. That broke my heart more then anything ever could, even her death.
Maybe that's why I left.
Love is richer in the imagining than the real thing. We both knew that, but even I would say that we poured our very souls into each other. So much love, and I could never be worthy of the very goddess she was. She made everything better, and she made me forget the pain, even momentarily. Maybe.maybe that's why I loved her so much. The irony of it all. She loved me because I was her prince, and I loved her because she was my angel.
We loved something that neither of us could ever be.
So here I am, locked in my room as the sun slowly sets. Cordelia wants me to come out, but I won't. Not until I can memorize every detail about her, every single moment I spent with her. No matter how painful or fake our love, it was more real than most people can ever expect to have. All I need to know was that she loved me, and I loved her. Her death will never end that, and instead it only ended her suffering, and bitterness.
It ended her hopes of that perfect life.
I could never be her prince in shining armor, coming to save her from the darkness. I could only bring her into it. She could never be the princess, even if she was the princess of my heart; that was never enough. The white horse would never come to take us away to our perfect life, and the sun would never shine down on us. Life isn't perfect, and it never will be. Fairy tales lie.