My mouth and eyes are silent and still, and the bed looks so inviting. I long to sleep, to forget, to feel as empty as I must look. Willow, Xander and everyone think I'm fine, but I'm not sure they care. This summer stretches ahead of me, long and so hot and boring. Of course there will be vampires to slay and my Dad to visit and probably parties to go to. But what do I care?

As I slip between the sheets, my body tries to relax, but it is wound tighter then a thread about to break. Lying back, I wonder what I will do tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. All the days…the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the agonizing time that seems to go on forever. Of course I know that it won't. That soon I will regain my old self, the Buffy spirit, the Slayer…whatever. I'm too tired to even make myself feel better.

He's gone. I don't want to think that, but it springs to mind immediately, when I stop forcing my head full of thoughts. He is Gone. Angel, my lover, my…my what exactly? My boyfriend? My whore? Or maybe I was his whore. His emotional whore, that he got support from, drained blood from…the gullible girl who gave him her heart and then let him crush it. You know, I wish he had killed me when he took my blood. Wouldn't that have been better? He could have left without a Goodbye then. Oh wait…he already did.

I touch my neck. The bandage chafes at my fingers and I rip if off, pressing my fingers to the two puncture wounds, feel a drop of blood spurt onto my palm. I wonder what it tasted like to him. I know what blood tastes like, of course. I've cut my finger and then sucked on it to alleviate the pain…but to him…it's food. It's nourishment. It's pleasure.

When he was biting me…I orgasmed. I don't want to admit that to anyone, least of all myself. Because it seems so wrong. But he fell on top of me, and his thighs were so hard and strong, and his chest was bare. My flesh just…reacted. I hadn't felt him that way, in so long. Hot and hungry. God, he was hungry for me. He sucked me dry, and I wonder now if he loved it. Was it better than it had been when he used to kill? When he had no soul? I could feel the pump of my blood, filling his throat, and he was groaning into my flesh and I felt the rush between my legs and it all shattered and broke and I passed out. As he drank, I saw huge bloody stars before my eyes, waxy and thick, and everything started to blur and shimmer. It was strange. Like death, because his tongue was licking my life force away.

I will never tell anyone how deep this cut went. How deep he actually bit. It's as if his fangs reached to my belly, ripped out all my insides, my heart and my lungs. Cause I can't breathe, and I don't want to. Rolling over, I feel the crisp, white, pure sheets touch me, and I shudder. I'm not pure, I'm no virgin. I'm not an innocent little girl who doesn't know what goes bump in the night. Who doesn't know what betrayal is, what pain is. And I'm talking real pain. The kind that smothers your stomach and just clamps down, and you feel like you want to throw up, and you gag and you sob with it…but nothing helps.

I guess I'm supposed to be moving on right now. You know, letting go. Whatever the fuck that means. I can do nothing else, but go on. It's not because I want to. It's because I have to. He is GONE. He left me for this life to eat me up…to make me normal, to face things alone. And I'll do it. If only to show him I can. But I won't forget, and I won't stop loving. How could I do that? He is the air I breathe, the fucking blood in my veins. He's the reason I don't want to wake up tomorrow, and why I wish I was dead.

I'm Buffy. I am the goddamn Slayer…and I have to show everyone that he is not my reason for fighting. I'm no longer his, so he shouldn't be mine.

I want peace. The silence is so loud. Nothing whispers. It's still and bare and naked. My bones are aching.

He is Gone.

end