Right after the Prom, he told me he was leaving. He stayed through Graduation. He helped us fight the Mayor. Then he left. He left Sunnydale. He left me. He loves me, but he couldn't stay with me.

Synchronicity, I guess. Buffy and I have been crying in each other's arms pretty much non-stop since Prom. It's like Oz and Angel compared notes before dumping us. It hurts so much. And the fact that I can't even go to Xander to let him hold me makes it even worse. But that's my fault. I'm the one who kept us from being friends again. Buffy's the only real friend I have left, I guess.

It hurt when she left yesterday. She decided to visit her father again this summer, for a few weeks at least. She said she can't be in Sunnydale right now, that she had to get away. I can understand that, I really can. I wish I could leave, too. I might as well be leaving, really. After today, I'm going to be totally alone.

Xander leaves today for his road trip. He must be gone by now, actually. I didn't even go over to say goodbye. He must think I don't care. I do care. Of course I care. We haven't been apart for more than a weekend since we were four years old, and now he's going to be gone all summer. That hurts. But what's even worse, what's so painful that I can barely hold in the tears as I sit here thinking about it, is the fact that when you get right down to it, we've been apart since Christmas, and I never really noticed. When I told him he couldn't touch me, not even as a friend, I threw away our entire friendship. But I was so fixated on Oz that I didn't realize it. And since Oz told me he was leaving, I've spent every second commiserating with Buffy. But now Buffy's gone, too, and I'm all alone. And it's all my fault.

What's that noise? Is that music? It is. "Only The Lonely." Roy Orbison. I love that song, I always have.

Oh, my God.

I'm up on my feet and heading for the door before I realize I'm moving. Throwing it open, I stop dead in my tracks.

Xander. It's Xander. Uncle Rory's car is in the driveway, with the top down and the radio on, and Xander is leaning against the hood, looking at me. His eyes tells me more than words ever could.

He wants me to go with him. His bags are packed. I can see them in the back seat. He's ready to go, and he wants me to go with him.

I can't move. I can't speak. I'm so scared, I can barely breathe. What do I do? I have no idea what to do. I don't even know what I want to do.

Yes, I do. I know what I want. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid that by trying to make it better, we'll make it even worse. I can't say the words, but I know the look on my face tells Xander what I'm feeling.

He nods, and I know he's afraid, too. Of course he is. But his eyes tell me he's even more afraid not to try at all. He's scared that he'll lose me altogether. He's scared that he'll lose his Willow.

I'm terrified that I've already lost my Xander, and that I'll never get him back. But then I realize that's not true. He wouldn't even be here if that were true, would he? He wouldn't be here if he hadn't conquered his fear. Can I do any less?

My smile tells him my decision. His answering smile lights up the night, and I know that I've made the right choice. Giggling, I hold up my finger to tell him to wait, and rush from the kitchen to the stairs and up to my room.

I drag the suitcase out from under the bed, fill it up as fast as I can. Clothes first. Not too many, but enough. Shoes. My walkman and some CDs. Money. The little first aid kit in my desk that Xander's always teased me about. My journal. My frog. Stakes and holy water. What else? I look around the room, trying to decide what else to take. Sunglasses! I have a feeling that sunglasses are key. Okay, that's it.

I skip down the stairs, laughing like a child. Stop in the kitchen, scribble a note to Mom and Dad. Bye, going with Xander. See you in a few months. I wonder what they'll make of it? I wonder if they'll even notice I'm gone? I don't much care either way.

I lock the door as I shut it behind me, and then I'm running to him. I drop the suitcase and suddenly I'm in his arms. He's holding me. Xander is holding me again, and all is right with the world.

After a minute that lasts my whole life, he lets me go and grabs my suitcase. He tosses it in the back seat with his stuff, then opens the passenger door for me. As I move to get in the car, his hand on my arm stops me. We stand there looking into each other's eyes for a few seconds, both smiling like fools. Then he brings his hand up to brush my hair away from my face, and I get into the car. He shuts the door and goes around to get in the driver's seat. And we're off.

Without realizing it, I find that we're holding hands. It's a little awkward when he has to shift gears, but neither of us cares. It feels so good to touch him again. It feels so good to be with him.

It's not until we pass the town line that I turn to him and raise my eyebrows in curiosity. Where are we going?

Xanders shifts to look at me and smiles as he shrugs. No idea.

Fine by me, as long as we're together.