As I watch, she walks away from me. Her words from earlier that night
resound in my head: Were we in love? The words I just echoed to her...only
to have her respond as if all was over before anything even began. Other
words echo...from earlier...I don't know. What do you mean you don't know?
Now that's the kinda thing I think I'd remember. I'm stunned to realize
that I didn't see the irony of those words right then. She said she'd
remember? That's funny, considering it took a magic spell get her to
remember me at all...how we were before...how she was my best friend...how
I loved her...and she used to love me....
I feel the tears well up as I stand there, no longer seeing anything but a ghost of her standing there, smiling at me. I push them back down. I can't bring myself to cry. The last time I did that was when Buffy died, and Cordy's not dead...not yet. I'm the dead one. I'm just a walking mass of dead flesh and maybe that's why she's gone. My coldness repels her. I know that's not it. But then why? I don't understand...she leaves to become a higher power and then comes back for God knows what reason...and she decides she can't love me anymore. Did she see my hallucinations about killing her as I bobbed along the ocean floor? She's Cordelia, though, she should realize that those aren't real. What's real is the way I feel about her...the way she felt about me. I ponder reality and its harsh sting I now feel as I walk slowly down the hall and back to my own room.
They all watch me as I walk, stunned into silence by seeing their champion felled with one simple sentence: We were. They don't say anything, but stand aside as I walk past, like someone's died...and maybe I have once again. Head bent, shoulders slumped, I walk...taking no notice of any of them, not even my son. Of course, they don't really know what has happened. They can only guess. I wish I were one of them. I wish I could only guess at what had happened and not feel this emptiness inside of me, like a piece of my soul had been taken. Buffy still holds a piece, a piece that died and came back with her, but if much more is taken I might be reduced to a shell. A walking zombie who feels nothing but always broods on what might have been. It seems that's all I live on anyhow.
Once in my room, I gently close the door behind me and slide down it until I'm sitting on the floor. That's when I let the tears come. I don't sob, no, I simply let the tears flow freely down my face. I cry for Cordy, that now she's alone in this world. I cry for Connor, the son who hates me and probably always will. I cry for myself, a creature unlike any other who has the gift of a soul but torture unlike any other souled being. My torture extends beyond not being able to physically love. I know that all of those I love will one day be gone anyway, taken by death...while I will mourn them and love them for the rest of my days. Who knows how long my destiny will take to fulfill? By then, I could be the only one I know left in the world. Sure others may come and go after all of those I know die, but they won't be Angel Investigations...ever.
Why is my life like this? Why do I suffer it? It would be simple to let the sun come up on a new day as I stood on a balcony to see my last sunrise. Without Cordy, what am I? I'm no champion. She made me one. She encouraged me when I couldn't see anything but darkness. She forgave me more easily than anyone ever could. She loved me as her friend...and possibly as more. So why is she doing this to me? I don't understand. All of these thoughts flood through my head as I sit against the door and cry...
Slowly, I rise and make my way over to the bed. Maybe if I sleep I can gain some new perspective. Maybe tomorrow it will all have been a bad dream and Cordy will be here, answering the phone...teasing me when I come down for a taste of her horrible coffee. I take my shirt off and lay down on the bed. I close my eyes, but the only thing I can see is her. The tears come again, this time in a great sob, a stifled cry for her. A cry for her, but also for me...for what I am, were, are, and what I never will be without her by my side. A cry for the world, that no one will ever experience all the pain I have felt. A cry for my son, that he has to endure all the pains and troubles that come with life. A cry that says I hope he makes it better than I have...a cry for no one, for no one will ever hear it and no one will ever know my pain.
I feel the tears well up as I stand there, no longer seeing anything but a ghost of her standing there, smiling at me. I push them back down. I can't bring myself to cry. The last time I did that was when Buffy died, and Cordy's not dead...not yet. I'm the dead one. I'm just a walking mass of dead flesh and maybe that's why she's gone. My coldness repels her. I know that's not it. But then why? I don't understand...she leaves to become a higher power and then comes back for God knows what reason...and she decides she can't love me anymore. Did she see my hallucinations about killing her as I bobbed along the ocean floor? She's Cordelia, though, she should realize that those aren't real. What's real is the way I feel about her...the way she felt about me. I ponder reality and its harsh sting I now feel as I walk slowly down the hall and back to my own room.
They all watch me as I walk, stunned into silence by seeing their champion felled with one simple sentence: We were. They don't say anything, but stand aside as I walk past, like someone's died...and maybe I have once again. Head bent, shoulders slumped, I walk...taking no notice of any of them, not even my son. Of course, they don't really know what has happened. They can only guess. I wish I were one of them. I wish I could only guess at what had happened and not feel this emptiness inside of me, like a piece of my soul had been taken. Buffy still holds a piece, a piece that died and came back with her, but if much more is taken I might be reduced to a shell. A walking zombie who feels nothing but always broods on what might have been. It seems that's all I live on anyhow.
Once in my room, I gently close the door behind me and slide down it until I'm sitting on the floor. That's when I let the tears come. I don't sob, no, I simply let the tears flow freely down my face. I cry for Cordy, that now she's alone in this world. I cry for Connor, the son who hates me and probably always will. I cry for myself, a creature unlike any other who has the gift of a soul but torture unlike any other souled being. My torture extends beyond not being able to physically love. I know that all of those I love will one day be gone anyway, taken by death...while I will mourn them and love them for the rest of my days. Who knows how long my destiny will take to fulfill? By then, I could be the only one I know left in the world. Sure others may come and go after all of those I know die, but they won't be Angel Investigations...ever.
Why is my life like this? Why do I suffer it? It would be simple to let the sun come up on a new day as I stood on a balcony to see my last sunrise. Without Cordy, what am I? I'm no champion. She made me one. She encouraged me when I couldn't see anything but darkness. She forgave me more easily than anyone ever could. She loved me as her friend...and possibly as more. So why is she doing this to me? I don't understand. All of these thoughts flood through my head as I sit against the door and cry...
Slowly, I rise and make my way over to the bed. Maybe if I sleep I can gain some new perspective. Maybe tomorrow it will all have been a bad dream and Cordy will be here, answering the phone...teasing me when I come down for a taste of her horrible coffee. I take my shirt off and lay down on the bed. I close my eyes, but the only thing I can see is her. The tears come again, this time in a great sob, a stifled cry for her. A cry for her, but also for me...for what I am, were, are, and what I never will be without her by my side. A cry for the world, that no one will ever experience all the pain I have felt. A cry for my son, that he has to endure all the pains and troubles that come with life. A cry that says I hope he makes it better than I have...a cry for no one, for no one will ever hear it and no one will ever know my pain.