A/N: I wrote this because I can identify myself with the way Wesley feels. Actually, I'm in the same stupid dilemma that his character is in the show at the end of the third season.
Read on.
Disclaimer: You all should know that this belongs to Joss Whedon and all the parties involved in getting the show on the air.
Feedback: As you wish.
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This Is My Life.
I've noticed one thing in this rat race we call life.
Hate and pain are the only constants in it. We only find peace when we die and happiness is only a few moments in which we feel joy. Love, well, love can be wonderful but it can also be torture.
Lately, it's torture for me.
I'm brooding. I know. I want to feel miserable for a while. I'm tired of pretending that there's nothing wrong. I want to scream that everything is wrong and that I can't deal with things the way they are.
Maybe you'd understand me if I told you what's wrong with my life.
Well, everything.
I can't complain about the cold an emotionless upbringing I had. I am British, after all, and my parents were not very good on the care department. My father least of all. Up till this day, he still thinks I'm a failure and that I've let the name Wyndam-Price down.
I don't care anymore.
I tried to become the best watcher to ever exist, but the slayer placed under my charge went rogue and killed an innocent human and almost killed me. Bugger.
Bugger.
Bugger.
I was obviously fired from the Council. Can't have a failure on their ranks, can they? I also blew up any romantic interest with one Cordelia Chase who happens to be working now with me.
For me.
Next to me.
Whatever.
I thought that things would look up when I had my girlfriend. A girl I saved while pretending to be somebody else. Not a good way to begin things, isn't it?
She fell in love with a persona, not with my self. That wasn't meant to work out.
Later on, I got shot while trying to argue with a dead cop. Physical pain, oh, I can deal with that. But all this list of failures and pain is nothing compared to what I am feeling these days.
She's in love with somebody else.
She's in love with somebody else.
It really shouldn't hurt this much. I mean, if I really love her then I should be happy when she's happy, right?
Right?
In theory, yes, but I can't help to feel all dead inside when she jumps and hugs him and I have to swallow my pain and smile like an idiot and pretend everything's all right.
I have to try to shut out the happy noises they make when they're together and I have to act like it's not disturbing me.
I've even had to hear her ramble about how happy she was with him and how tender he is and a lot of crap that I didn't want to hear.
Not from her.
Because I'd like to be that man she's talking about. That man who can make her stare dumbly into space and have her eyes sparkle when he talks sweetly to her.
It eats me inside when I try to be heroic to impress her and all he has to do is smile at her and he's her hero again.
It's like I don't even exist in her world.
Sure, without him around, we get along. We can talk about a lot of things and I can pretend that it's me who's wooing her and maybe I'll get a chance somewhere in there.
But as soon as he appears, the fantasy is over and she is so in love with him that I could lift a stupid truck over my head, throw it at the bad guy in turn and she'd still not notice me around.
And it hurts. It really hurts.
Hurts even more when I know that I can only have her in my dreams, in my fantasy world where I can be her knight in shining armor and I can treat her the way I want to.
It just wasn't meant to be, was it?
I mean, I would never be her choice. First of all, it was Angel who was all heroic like and rescued her from that awful world Pylea. Then it took her months just to get out of her room and who does she notice? Not me. Obviously not me.
Gunn.
It's even worse because he's my friend. A good friend. I took a bullet for him.
And he sleeps next to the girl of my dreams.
Every day I talk with her I find something new about her. Another small detail that makes me love her a bit more. She's ticklish. I found out that because we were reading some texts and I brushed accidentally my elbow against her belly, which made her laugh that soft smile of her.
And what can I do about it?
Watch Gunn tickle her and hold her and smile with her.
He doesn't see the many things I see about her. After that, I worry, because maybe I'm obsessing about her, but I can't help myself. I laugh every time I see her. I grow nervous when I know I'm about to see her.
And my heart dies a bit more when she laughs at him instead of me. When she asks him for small, stupid things that I'd like to do for her.
What's there to do? I have to live with this and hope that sooner or later I'll manage to look at her without feeling all crumbled inside. Maybe I won't cry anymore when the living gets too tough and I wish that I could rely on her.
And I specially can't tell her. Never.
You see, she's so nice and gentle that she'd try to make amends with me, which could only end with Gunn getting jealous and me suffering some more because she'd insist that she only loves me as a friend.
I don't want to be her friend. I can't be her friend.
I'm a stupid, selfish man, I know, that's why I haven't said a thing.
I just swallow all the things I feel, and I look at her and smile whenever she smiles as well.
I can't hurt her with my burden.
So I write what I feel, and then I'll burn this piece of paper and I'll never, ever, sing around Lorne because then he'd feel what I feel, and I don't want anyone to feel this.
It's private.
My pain is the most private thing I have.
I love you, Winifred Burkle.
I love you, Fred.
But you can never know.
