Has it been a year? Time seemed to have gotten lost and of little importance since he left Sunnydale that final time. Once he hit the border and crossed into the next town everything changed. Everything was gone. He had nothing left. He couldn't go back to UC Sunnydale, if he wanted to patch things up between himself and the rest of the gang, it would never be the same. Without Willow, he felt as if he had no significance to any of them, or to anyone for that matter.
He sat in his appartment, which was just another temporary situation until he could go somewhere else, which would also prove to have no purpose. He knew it didn't make sense, but neither did anything else, so why try and make sense out of a place to stay? Where-ever he could find a steady job, where-ever he could go to be as far away from all the memories that ate away at him everyday. Everything reminded him of Willow. Everything he saw, every song he heard, every time he passed another woman, something about them, even the smallest of things, made him see nothing but her face. How long could he go on like this?
"Why did I leave in the first place, what was the point. I got scared. Scared of me, scared of what I was turning into. My first real problem, and I ran" Words that he kept repeating to himself what seemed to be every 5 seconds. "I ran, like a coward, I ran. Did I think I could come back? Did I really think things could be fixed. I could look her in the eyes....her beautiful eyes, and just I'm sorry? I'm sorry I left you, I'm sorry?" The more he thought about it the more those two words, I'm sorry, sounded so meaningless, so unthinkable to say for what he did. "I'm such a fool. The one thing I truly loved, and would give my own life for without any second thoughts, I lost. I lost and I just assumed I could get back"
Oz continued to punish himself. He continued thinking of the ways he could have fixed what happened. What he could have done differently, and just because he didn't. He lost her. He lost everything. Everything that ever mattered, was miles away now. Where was he? This was about the 10th different place he stayed at. Staying in one place was impossible. His mind could only process one thing, 1 person, 1 regret.
Sitting on his bed, starring across the room, he saw his guitar. He had sold his previous one in exchange for something, he couldn't even remember what it was. He had no money at the time, and it was the only thing if value he really had, so he had no choice. When he got enough money, he bought a new one. Of course it was used before, in decent condition. The looks of it didn't matter. He just needed something he could play. Something he could take comfort in, something to take his mind off everything. So he bought it. He hadn't even looked at it in weeks. He didn't even realize the weeks were leaving him behind. After about 15 minutes, his blank stare faded, and he slowly got off his bed. He walked over and picked up the guitar. He started randomly playing different cords and he always used to do until it formed something he wanted to hear. He had written countless songs for Willow in this manner.
It didn't come so easy anymore. Nothing clicked, nothing sounded right. It wasn't coming together, and it frustrated Oz. He wouldn't show it, he kept on trying. After an hour, the frustration took him over. Nothing came easy anymore. Things that would have been fun, and simple, took hours at least to complete, because his mind, and being was never fully there. With all this in mind, he just threw the guitar down in the ground causing a loud uncomforting clash of notes. The anger in his eyes slowly started to fade as he could feel tears forming in them and trickle down his cheek until they were pouring down and he couldn't stop them. Oz broke down. It's been so long since this has happened he couldn't even recall the last time. He always seemed to hide his emotions from everyone, including himself. Now, he didn't care, he didn't care about being strong, or hiding anything. He was finally admitting to himself that he had nothing, and no one. He laid back down, tears still falling down his face, and now drenching the sheets on his pillow. When he finally stopped, he went into the bathroom to splash some water on his face. When he looked up in the mirror, he saw the horrible image of himself. He was ashamed to even admit he was looking at his own face. His eyes were red and his entire face now soaked and puffed. He was unshaven and he had never in his life seen such an unhappy and depressed individual. The person he saw, had no hope in their face. Nothing but despair and regret was showing in their eyes. This was what he let himself become. In disgust, he looked away, and eventually just walked out of the bathroom.
Almost the entire day had gone by. In this entire time he had accomplished nothing. He hadn't tried to find work, or a better place to stay. As the days go by he realizes that instead of things getting better and easier, they are progressively getting harder. Like there was no way out. Was there really a point to anything anymore? He questioned it everyday since he's left, but never seems to allow himself to think of an answer.
Somewhere between his misery and need for a full nights sleep, which he hasn't gotten in months, he finally did fall asleep. With no usual interruptions from the landlord, or his drunken neighbors. As Oz began to wake up, the sun peering through the window in sharp beams of light stung both his eyes. He forced that open, curious to know how much sleep he actually got. He slowly turned and looked at the clock which took a couple of minutes to become clear to his eyes. "1:30, shit, how did that happen?!" Either way, it was needed. When he finally managed to sit up he looked out the window, and an almost-half-smile started across his face. The day before strangely gave him some sense of closure. It was unexplainable to him, but the thoughts he couldn't get out of his head for months; the hurt, the anger, the regret, everything just started fading. Not completely, but enough.
He got up, and went into the bathroom, this time not hesitant to look himself in the mirror. This time he saw the person in it, and wasn't happy, but not ashamed either. A fair balance at this point. He shaved(finally), showered, and got dressed. All this faster than usual because for some strange reason he was eager to get out of the apartment and make something of the day and try and make up for the lost time that he didn't even know was passing by so quickly.
As he was getting on his old worn out sneakers, he heard knocking at the door. His first impulse was to ignore it because he figured it was Mr. Harper the landlord, but he went over and opened it anyway. Almost ready to say "Sorry Mr. Harper, I know I'm late with rent....." he stopped himself as something shot through his entire body leaving him unable to move. The two starred at each other with widened eyes for what seemed like the longest minute in history until Oz caught enough breath to speak. ".....Kandi?"
::To Be Continued::
He sat in his appartment, which was just another temporary situation until he could go somewhere else, which would also prove to have no purpose. He knew it didn't make sense, but neither did anything else, so why try and make sense out of a place to stay? Where-ever he could find a steady job, where-ever he could go to be as far away from all the memories that ate away at him everyday. Everything reminded him of Willow. Everything he saw, every song he heard, every time he passed another woman, something about them, even the smallest of things, made him see nothing but her face. How long could he go on like this?
"Why did I leave in the first place, what was the point. I got scared. Scared of me, scared of what I was turning into. My first real problem, and I ran" Words that he kept repeating to himself what seemed to be every 5 seconds. "I ran, like a coward, I ran. Did I think I could come back? Did I really think things could be fixed. I could look her in the eyes....her beautiful eyes, and just I'm sorry? I'm sorry I left you, I'm sorry?" The more he thought about it the more those two words, I'm sorry, sounded so meaningless, so unthinkable to say for what he did. "I'm such a fool. The one thing I truly loved, and would give my own life for without any second thoughts, I lost. I lost and I just assumed I could get back"
Oz continued to punish himself. He continued thinking of the ways he could have fixed what happened. What he could have done differently, and just because he didn't. He lost her. He lost everything. Everything that ever mattered, was miles away now. Where was he? This was about the 10th different place he stayed at. Staying in one place was impossible. His mind could only process one thing, 1 person, 1 regret.
Sitting on his bed, starring across the room, he saw his guitar. He had sold his previous one in exchange for something, he couldn't even remember what it was. He had no money at the time, and it was the only thing if value he really had, so he had no choice. When he got enough money, he bought a new one. Of course it was used before, in decent condition. The looks of it didn't matter. He just needed something he could play. Something he could take comfort in, something to take his mind off everything. So he bought it. He hadn't even looked at it in weeks. He didn't even realize the weeks were leaving him behind. After about 15 minutes, his blank stare faded, and he slowly got off his bed. He walked over and picked up the guitar. He started randomly playing different cords and he always used to do until it formed something he wanted to hear. He had written countless songs for Willow in this manner.
It didn't come so easy anymore. Nothing clicked, nothing sounded right. It wasn't coming together, and it frustrated Oz. He wouldn't show it, he kept on trying. After an hour, the frustration took him over. Nothing came easy anymore. Things that would have been fun, and simple, took hours at least to complete, because his mind, and being was never fully there. With all this in mind, he just threw the guitar down in the ground causing a loud uncomforting clash of notes. The anger in his eyes slowly started to fade as he could feel tears forming in them and trickle down his cheek until they were pouring down and he couldn't stop them. Oz broke down. It's been so long since this has happened he couldn't even recall the last time. He always seemed to hide his emotions from everyone, including himself. Now, he didn't care, he didn't care about being strong, or hiding anything. He was finally admitting to himself that he had nothing, and no one. He laid back down, tears still falling down his face, and now drenching the sheets on his pillow. When he finally stopped, he went into the bathroom to splash some water on his face. When he looked up in the mirror, he saw the horrible image of himself. He was ashamed to even admit he was looking at his own face. His eyes were red and his entire face now soaked and puffed. He was unshaven and he had never in his life seen such an unhappy and depressed individual. The person he saw, had no hope in their face. Nothing but despair and regret was showing in their eyes. This was what he let himself become. In disgust, he looked away, and eventually just walked out of the bathroom.
Almost the entire day had gone by. In this entire time he had accomplished nothing. He hadn't tried to find work, or a better place to stay. As the days go by he realizes that instead of things getting better and easier, they are progressively getting harder. Like there was no way out. Was there really a point to anything anymore? He questioned it everyday since he's left, but never seems to allow himself to think of an answer.
Somewhere between his misery and need for a full nights sleep, which he hasn't gotten in months, he finally did fall asleep. With no usual interruptions from the landlord, or his drunken neighbors. As Oz began to wake up, the sun peering through the window in sharp beams of light stung both his eyes. He forced that open, curious to know how much sleep he actually got. He slowly turned and looked at the clock which took a couple of minutes to become clear to his eyes. "1:30, shit, how did that happen?!" Either way, it was needed. When he finally managed to sit up he looked out the window, and an almost-half-smile started across his face. The day before strangely gave him some sense of closure. It was unexplainable to him, but the thoughts he couldn't get out of his head for months; the hurt, the anger, the regret, everything just started fading. Not completely, but enough.
He got up, and went into the bathroom, this time not hesitant to look himself in the mirror. This time he saw the person in it, and wasn't happy, but not ashamed either. A fair balance at this point. He shaved(finally), showered, and got dressed. All this faster than usual because for some strange reason he was eager to get out of the apartment and make something of the day and try and make up for the lost time that he didn't even know was passing by so quickly.
As he was getting on his old worn out sneakers, he heard knocking at the door. His first impulse was to ignore it because he figured it was Mr. Harper the landlord, but he went over and opened it anyway. Almost ready to say "Sorry Mr. Harper, I know I'm late with rent....." he stopped himself as something shot through his entire body leaving him unable to move. The two starred at each other with widened eyes for what seemed like the longest minute in history until Oz caught enough breath to speak. ".....Kandi?"
::To Be Continued::