Wrong
I came back wrong.
And the funny thing? Nobody realized I did. (Except for ol' grandsire, of course, who thinks that me coming back, at all, is wrong in itself.)
But I know better. I'm not the same man... vampire... who burned up in the sodding Hellmouth. Because, that Spike? He'd have run off to Goldilocks the very second he got all solid again, even though she didn't mean it when she said those three little words.
Moth to a flame; vampire to a slayer.
But I didn't go. I may be love's bitch, but I'm not a bleeding masochist.