I look around Xander's living room and marvel at the mess we've created. The place is littered with video tapes, DVDs, empty soda cans, Twinkee wrappers, and one passed out best friend.

Two months ago, I nearly killed Xander. OK, so I also happened to be trying to destroy the world at the time, but I was going to kill him before I unleashed Demon Apocalypse Round 6, or 7, or 8, or whatever number we're on right now for Demon Apocalypses. I look at him, lying on the couch with his head resting on my shoulder, and shudder at the thought. I was so determined to make the hurting stop that I was willing to kill my best friend.

And, even then, he still loved me.

For years I would have done anything to hear Xander say, "I love you, Willow." On that day, I hated him. I hated him for how he ignored me, only to notice Buffy, Cordelia, Anya, and every other woman (and woman-shaped demon, for that matter) that crossed his path. I hated him for letting me fall in love with Oz, and for not fighting for me after Oz and Cordy had found out about the "flukes". I hated him for having sex with Faith, and for being so accepting of me and Tara. And, most of all, I hated him for saying that he loved me, and for trying to help me when I needed it most.

I'm crying now. I've been doing a lot of crying since Tara died, and it still hasn't eased the pain of my loss, or the guilt I feel for killing Warren and trying to end my personal suffering by allowing a demon to destroy the entire planet. I loved Tara more than anyone I've-

No. I didn't. Deep down, I know that I couldn't ever love Tara as much as I love Xander, and it's one of the reasons why I tried to keep her from leaving me when I was overdosing on my magical power, and the main reason why I allowed myself to drown in my powers after our breakup. Without Tara, without her love, I not only have to admit that I'm still in love with Xander on some level, but I have to deal with not having someone in my life that loves me as much as I demand to be loved.

I can't stand not being loved, and that's my biggest flaw. And what do I get for it? Nothing but more pain and misery because of the smallest mistake I've made (which, naturally, I blow completely out of proportion), or because I'm afraid of making a mistake (which usually leads to a *big* mistake). All because I'm afraid of being neglected, much like my parents have neglected me for all of my life. But it shouldn't matter. Tara and Oz loved me unconditionally, and Buffy, Dawn, and Xander continue to do so. I'm not even sure about Giles anymore-he said that he loved me before going back to England, but I could see the feelings of hurt and betrayal on his face as he told me. Now I'm afraid that things will never be the same between the two of us.

Xander's beginning to weigh down on me, so I slide over and allow his head to rest in my lap, just like he always did when we were little. I can tell by the look of contentment on his face that he still feels safe with me, no matter what I've done to him, and it makes me smile. I begin to run my fingers through his hair, feeling at ease as I let the curls glide between my fingers.

I've lost all track of time when Xander begins talking in his sleep. He's always done it, and I've embarrassed him many times over by repeating the nonsensical chatter of his subconscious. Right now, however, Xander's just mumbling incoherently every minute or so.

At some point, Xander begins to spill out the occasional word in English, and before long I get the impression that he's pledging his undying love for Twinkees. I grin devilishly for a moment while I wonder whether or not to answer, thereby interfering with his dream. I ultimately decide against it, even though the results of this sort of tampering are usually very funny, like the one time during our sophomore year of high school, when he was talking about Buffy and grapefruits. I don't know what happened in his dream, but to this day Buffy can't even *mention* grapefruits without causing Xander's eyes to glaze over, to say nothing of when she actually eats one in his presence.

My reminiscing is cut short when I hear him call my name. "Willow?"

"Yes, Xander?" I ask instinctively.

"Will....Marry me, Will."

I gasp in shock, and it's amazing that I don't wake him up. I don't know what to say. He's proposing....to me. Willow Rosenberg. Fear takes hold of me as I realize that there's some part of Xander that still wants to be with me, to marry me. Me. The woman who nearly killed him. A woman that he knows is gay.

I try to shut out my feelings of joy, because of what it means. It means that I've been trying to hide behind a label. I'm straight. I'm gay. I'm a nerd. I'm a witch. I've used all of these labels as badges of honor, as if I was better because of them, and not because of who I am.

Xander begins shifting listlessly, and I see a little black box fall out of his pants pocket. After it hits the ground, I bend over and pick it up, making sure not to wake Xander up. I open the box and what's inside is enough to make me cry harder than I have in a long time.

Inside the box is an engagement ring.

I manage to say his name aloud, but nothing else will come out. Xander wasn't talking gibberish; he was saying what he's been hoping to tell me. I don't know what to do. The ring is absolutely beautiful, and I try it on, as if to see if it's really for me.

Once it's on my finger, I marvel at the ring, and everything it stands for. I don't deserve it. But I continue to wear it anyways, so that I can pretend that I do deserve it for just a little bit more.

My reverie is ended when I sense that Xander is waking up. I'm suddenly afraid, as I know I'll have to answer his proposal now. I'm afraid because I know that I'll say yes to him.

His eyes open, and he immediately begins to worry. Then he sees the ring, and timidly says, "Willow, I...."

I plead to him with my eyes and say, "Xander, I...."

The fear on his face is breaking my heart, and my already weakened resolve begins to fade away. "Willow, please...."

I have to say no. I'm gay. Besides, I don't love him like that. I can't I....

"Yes, Xander."

"Yes?" he asks, hoping to confirm something that I myself am having trouble believing.

I nod, even though I shouldn't. It's better this way if I say no. Then, Xander will be able to find a woman who deserves him. He'll move on, and find his true love.

I'm about to say it, say no, when I remember the women Xander has fallen for. Buffy. A praying mantis lady. A mummified Inca princess. Cordelia. Faith. Anya....and me. With the exception of Buffy, I'm the only one who's stayed in his life. The only one who knows about the real Xander Harris. The Xander who can sing perfectly. The Xander who's a graceful dancer, and says all the right things. The Xander who cries at movies. The Xander who's afraid of becoming like his bitter, abusive, drunk father. The Xander who would risk his life in a heartbeat to save his friends. My Xander, the one who's belonged to me since that day, all those years ago, when he asked me why my hair was on fire.

I can't deny my feelings any longer. My best friend has asked me to become his forever. It's something that he should never have to ask me, because I always have been, and always will be, his Willow. "Yes, Xander Harris, I'll marry you."

We're both crying now, flooded with uncontrollable joy as we share passionate kisses, free of past guilt, and full of love. Free of the labels we've given each other, and free of the barriers we've unnecessarily built between us over the years. Free of love bound by terms like "gay", "straight", and "bisexual". Free to love each other, as we have since before we understood just what love is. Free from years of pain and suffering, both together and apart. Free.