This morning, when I woke up, I knew beyond all doubt that this would
be my
last day. Don’t be surprised. I am sure everyone saw it coming for
years. It
became obvious to me, finally, when Anya walked out the door. Still, I
thought I
could survive. I forced myself to continue my life as if everything was
okay. I
know that it was for the sake of my friends. I also know that it was a
useless
battle. I was bound to lose. I always do.
So… You want to know what happened to Anya? Right after I had
poured my heart
out to her, telling her that I loved her so much it hurt, she kissed me
softly
and said goodbye. It was simple, really. Something precious had been
returned to
her. Something more precious than me, apparently. Yep. You guessed it.
She got
her power center back. D’Hoffryn came while I was out trying to
put some sense
into Buffy’s head about Riley. I still wonder if it would have
made a difference
if I had been home. Somehow I doubt it, though. That’s the way my
life has
always gone. Love and lose. I suppose the fact that I was used to it is
what
allowed me to live past that day. And I did. Live. And I wish that I
hadn’t.
Once she was gone, I started to notice the differences in those
around me.
Sure, it was obvious that they felt sympathetic. Hell, you could cut
through the
air with a knife when we were all together. That’s when it was
most obvious. I
would sit there in the magic shop in the same seat as always. There
would be an
empty seat beside me. Never filled. Even when there was standing room
only. No
one ever took Anya’s chair. Willow and Tara would hold hands and
try so hard not
to look utterly happy. They did that for me, ya know. Didn’t want
to make me
uncomfortable. It didn’t work. That was actually worse than
watching Buffy and
Riley making up. Yes, she was able to stop that chopper from taking off
with
Riley in it. I’m glad for her. I meant every word I said to her
that night in
the warehouse.
But between my favorite witches trying to make me feel like part of
the gang
and watching the free-for-all the Slayer and ex-commando were putting
on…all I
saw was how alone I was. And how little we all knew about each other
anymore.
THAT little fact was the hardest to face. Here were my best friends.
Specifically Willow and Buffy, of course. The three of us have seen
everything
together. We have fought all kinds of evil in the years we have
officially been
the Scooby Gang. And when I say that, you *know* I am not exaggerating!
But we
no longer know what makes the others tick. The bond we had as kids died
somewhere. Like so many vampires, it just turned to dust.
What about Giles, you ask? Why do you ask about him? Oh, I get it!
You are
among those who thought we had a father/son thing going on, right? Sorry
to
disappoint you but that never existed. To me, he has always been the
stuffy,
tweed-wearing, Brit. G-Man. To him, I have always been (and will remain)
the
nothing special, errand and donut boy, teen tagalong. The Zeppo. No
offense, but
you really need to take off your happily-ever-after
rose-colored-glasses.
The one person who might have been able to pull me out of this funk
is gone.
Not that there was ever anything special between us, but Spike always
seemed to
know what to say. Could make me see past my own miserable life just by
pointing
out how much worse his was. And you know what? He was right.
That’s the only
reason it worked. If he wasn’t so obviously destroyed by
everything that has
happened to him, it may as well have been any of the others telling me
*their*
lives sucked. But what Spike said was real. I could feel it. Almost
reach out
and touch his pain.
Why did Spike leave? I thought that was obvious. When he found out
that Riley
had stayed for Buffy, he couldn’t face either of them again.
Sunnydale is too
small a town for people *not* to run into each other. It was bad enough
that he
had told Riley about how he felt towards the Slayer. But when all hope
was lost,
because of the couple’s reunion and mutual forgiveness, it became
too much for
even the Big Bad to deal with. So he had Willy arrange to have his
DeSoto driven
back to town, packed up everything he owned and left. No
‘goodbye’. No ‘hope you
all rot in Hell’. Nothing. Just left.
You know what surprised me the most? Spike leaving hurt almost as bad
as
Anya. How’s *that* for crazy?! I’d say it was wacky but
Willow said love makes
you do the wacky. And there was no love lost between Spike and me. Was
there?
Now for the part I find so funny. It was Spike leaving that brought
me to
this point. Me! Xander ‘I am *NOT* gay’ Harris. I still
remember the day that
Larry told me he thought I was gay after he came out of that proverbial
closet.
There was no way on Earth that I could possibly be even a little bit
bent! But I
think I have learned something important because of this. I don’t
think love has
anything to do with gender. I think that the labels given to so called
‘same sex
oriented’ people were given by those who chose never to understand
what love
really is. And what love isn’t. Love is all-encompassing and
blind. Love isn’t
prejudice. And it can’t be controlled. Love just *is*!
And I can admit to you what I have finally discovered because *you*
aren’t
here. You can’t tell my friends that they need to have me
committed. So, in
these last few moments I have here, I will admit the one thing that has
finally
taken me over the edge. I, Alexander LaVelle Harris, love William the
Bloody. I
don’t want you to think that this realization is why have finally
chosen to end
my life. Not that. Never that. It is for the simple fact that I let him
go
without telling him. That I know I will never see him again. That, even
if he
laughed at my feelings, I will never see those brilliant blue eyes
again. And
*THAT*, my anonymous friend, is well worth dying for.
So, here I sit in my nice apartment. The one I got because Anya
wanted it. I
am in my living room sitting on the floor leaning up against the couch.
In one
hand I have an empty sleeping pill bottle. In the other hand I have a
third of a
bottle of Jack Daniel’s. There is a lit cigarette in a saucer in
front of me. I
know what you are thinking. Hey, since when does Xander smoke?? Never,
until
now, actually. But thanks for being concerned about the dying
man’s lungs! I’ll
make sure to buy the patch tomorrow. Sorry, just had to get one last
sarcastic
comment in. Admit it. You were expecting it. So why the cigarette? It
was next
to this bottle of JD Spike forgot in my basement when he moved out. Too
bad I
don’t own anything leather. Then I could be surrounded by the
tastes and smells
of the two people I loved most in this world.
I suppose I should say something cliché like, "good bye, cruel
world!" But I
can’t bring myself to leave on that ridiculous phrase. So, how
about something
simple. No need to be grand, after all. My words will only be heard by
me. No
one else around to hear, right? Well, here goes nothing.
