I'm waiting for you. Did you know that, would you even guess? I don't
even know why I do it since there is hardly a chance that you even think
about me. But I have this strange hope that maybe some day the guard will
come to my cell, you know where I am remember, and tell me that I have a
visitor. Hasn't happened yet, of course, but that little hope just won't
go away.
It's lonely here. I mean, I know I belong here and all because of what I did, but I don't fit in here. There were reasons for what I did that no one will ever understand, and I can't even tell anyone the details of most of it anyway. Can you see me chatting up the Hispanic gang members with stories of slaying demons and vampires? They'd probably decide I was some uppity white chick making metaphors for being a 'born again'. Fate worse than death, I assure you.
So that little hope was born, out of where I had thought only hopelessness could come. I had thought once that if I tried, really tried, to change that you would notice and approve; that you might care. For all that I did, all I really wanted was to be your friend. When that didn't work all I wanted was to be you. Buffy, you had everything I ever wanted and it looked so easy sometimes I just hated you. I know it was never as it appeared; you were miserable too. But when you had as little as I did for so long every little crumb seems like a banquet.
I wanted those crumbs so badly; the watcher, the friends, the mother, even school. All I was allowed was a trashy motel, a trashy reputation and the feeling that I would never be good enough to really belong to the group. Xander was scared of me, way before we ever had that fling, he had the whole lust thing going but what teenage boy doesn't? He was scared of me, excited and horny and terrified. Willow didn't trust me, she was jealous because we shared something that she could never share with you. She was your best friend and she could see how badly I wanted you to be my best friend instead. Willow knew, I'm not sure how, but she saw something.
Giles was just too busy for me. He had you and you were the perfect Slayer no matter how he might have protested your methods. Why didn't he ever ask the Council to send a new Watcher for me, so I could have my own? Did he think he could handle the two of us, or was it that the Council didn't care? I've always wanted to ask someone about that. I know they would never visit me, but you. I had that little hope.
I asked Angel to tell you where I was. At the time I thought it would be a way to show you that I was changing, that I was going to be good and do stuff even you might endorse. I wanted you to know that I wasn't a threat. I wanted to see you again and apologize. That was why I sent the postcard. It was cheesy, but I don't exactly have access to a greeting card store in here. It was what was available and I took the chance, just to write that I was sorry, that it was never a matter of feeling guilt, or not. It was just that the guilt I felt was so much better than the pain of being unwanted once again.
And then for some reason I started thinking that maybe one day you would come here and talk to me. That perhaps the postcard or the message from Angel would make a difference and even if we can never be friends, that perhaps you would be able to forgive me. If you could find it in yourself to forgive me, maybe I could move on.
I'll be leaving this place soon. I don't know where I'll go; I have no plans. I've thought about going to Angel and asking to help or for his direction to another place that needs a Slayer's unique talents. He knows all about the 'redemption through action' plan and maybe he would understand my need to do this. I just hope I don't fall into the bad way of things again. With your forgiveness I don't think I would.
Please, Buffy, visit me. Forgive me.
It's lonely here. I mean, I know I belong here and all because of what I did, but I don't fit in here. There were reasons for what I did that no one will ever understand, and I can't even tell anyone the details of most of it anyway. Can you see me chatting up the Hispanic gang members with stories of slaying demons and vampires? They'd probably decide I was some uppity white chick making metaphors for being a 'born again'. Fate worse than death, I assure you.
So that little hope was born, out of where I had thought only hopelessness could come. I had thought once that if I tried, really tried, to change that you would notice and approve; that you might care. For all that I did, all I really wanted was to be your friend. When that didn't work all I wanted was to be you. Buffy, you had everything I ever wanted and it looked so easy sometimes I just hated you. I know it was never as it appeared; you were miserable too. But when you had as little as I did for so long every little crumb seems like a banquet.
I wanted those crumbs so badly; the watcher, the friends, the mother, even school. All I was allowed was a trashy motel, a trashy reputation and the feeling that I would never be good enough to really belong to the group. Xander was scared of me, way before we ever had that fling, he had the whole lust thing going but what teenage boy doesn't? He was scared of me, excited and horny and terrified. Willow didn't trust me, she was jealous because we shared something that she could never share with you. She was your best friend and she could see how badly I wanted you to be my best friend instead. Willow knew, I'm not sure how, but she saw something.
Giles was just too busy for me. He had you and you were the perfect Slayer no matter how he might have protested your methods. Why didn't he ever ask the Council to send a new Watcher for me, so I could have my own? Did he think he could handle the two of us, or was it that the Council didn't care? I've always wanted to ask someone about that. I know they would never visit me, but you. I had that little hope.
I asked Angel to tell you where I was. At the time I thought it would be a way to show you that I was changing, that I was going to be good and do stuff even you might endorse. I wanted you to know that I wasn't a threat. I wanted to see you again and apologize. That was why I sent the postcard. It was cheesy, but I don't exactly have access to a greeting card store in here. It was what was available and I took the chance, just to write that I was sorry, that it was never a matter of feeling guilt, or not. It was just that the guilt I felt was so much better than the pain of being unwanted once again.
And then for some reason I started thinking that maybe one day you would come here and talk to me. That perhaps the postcard or the message from Angel would make a difference and even if we can never be friends, that perhaps you would be able to forgive me. If you could find it in yourself to forgive me, maybe I could move on.
I'll be leaving this place soon. I don't know where I'll go; I have no plans. I've thought about going to Angel and asking to help or for his direction to another place that needs a Slayer's unique talents. He knows all about the 'redemption through action' plan and maybe he would understand my need to do this. I just hope I don't fall into the bad way of things again. With your forgiveness I don't think I would.
Please, Buffy, visit me. Forgive me.