*I mistook the warnings for wisdom
From so called friends quick to advise
Though your touch was telling me otherwise
Somehow I saw you as a weakness
I thought I had to be strong
Oh but I was just young, I was scared, I was wrong*
Sometimes she hates them.
Her friends.
The people who supposedly love her the most. The ones who ripped her from paradise. Twice.
Sometimes she blames them.
She remembers what they said, the way they ridiculed him, shamed her for even thinking of touching him. They ignored her, just as long as she was back to fight their battles, she was fine. They were heroes for saving her from a tortuous hell dimension. They knew what was best for her. Thank God they were here to make her decisions, to save her from loving a monster.
It's their fault. Their fault she couldn't love him, their fault that she beat him and used him.
That's right. It's all-- her fault.
She listened to them, let them influence her decisions, instead of her heart.
Why did she listen to them?
She knew what was right. She could feel it every time he touched her. It was right.
He was right.
*Guess I did what I did believing
That love is a dangerous thing
Oh but that couldn't hurt anymore than never knowing...*
She threw him away.
She threw him away and went back to a life that she couldn't stand.
It could have been wonderful.
She could have had him in her life, he could have been there when she woke up. There beside her, giving her that loving smile that had scared her to death. He could have been there with her, beside her, facing anything that came their way, together. He could have healed her. Instead throwing him away, she could have embraced him. He was the balm that mended her soul.
What might have happened if he had been there with her everyday? Helping her to fall back into her life, instead of taking her away from it.
He could have.
He could have helped her to remember how beautiful Heaven was, but see how much the world still needed her. He could have stood beside her. He could have been her man, her love.
Instead of her dirty little secret.
It wasn't their fault at all.
It was hers.
Buffy rolled over and looked at the pillow beside her, trying to imagine that he was there. Tired and sated after making love to her. She could just see his beautiful eyes droop as he gave her a peaceful smile, feel his arms as they pulled her to him, ready to go to sleep curled around her, protecting her from the world.
She clutched the pillow to her and held onto it as she cried for what could have been.
*Not a night goes by
I don't dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been a home...*
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