DISCLAIMER: Joss-man owns all, I own nothing. If *I* owned Tara, *I'd* be nice to her.
She is my Goddess.
I worship her, and say my blessings to no one but her. I will kneel before my copper haired diety and pray forever...
She is my lover.
I lay my hands upon the planes of her face, and drink in her beauty. I run my hands down her lithe body and marvel at where she is concave where I am rounded, small where I am voluptuous.
I used to look in her eyes when we made love and see small copies of myself, bowing before the altar of her flesh. But she is changing. Now, those eyes are empty of me.
At first I hoped I could pull myself back into her eyes, somehow insert myself into her consciousness again. I know I can't. There is no turning back.
Life's wheel has spun its course here. I can't help her... she's disappeared to me.
Setting down her pen, Tara sighed and wiped her cheeks free of tears mechanically. Nevertheless, the salty drops coursed down her cheeks, landing silently on her notebook.
Setting aside the book, Tara closed her eyes. Unbidden, a picture of Willow as she first saw her came up behind her lids.
Tara rocked back and forth, back and forth. Sobbing loudly to herself, she managed to cry out hoarsely, Why, Willow? Oh, god, why...?
Hiccuping, she began to sing through her tears, Just wish I could stay here...
The boxes on the bed were full, though. There would be no staying.
I will never recover from this. Tara thought.
And with that, she wiped her tears, picked up the first of the boxes, and left.
