What is the greatest sacrifice you've made for love?
"No, she was never gone. She was with me. We should have been forever, and I let her be dead. She's really dead. And I killed her."
I didn't kill Tara. I know that now. Or at least, the in-the-moment kind of now. When I go back to that place, in my head, I am the girl that forgets. And when I sometimes look ahead, I'm worried that I won't remember. But -- I'll get to that part.
A few walks that I don't recall, best friend time tinged with yellow crayons, and a lot of time spent touching thigs? It helped. It reminded me that the reaching out part still happens, if you are open to it. That if you are lucky, and can't go half way? People like Buffy, and Xander, Giles, and Kennedy will clear the path -- and all the ground next to it. If there is a ditch or two when the dust, and dust settles? Well that is the way we have always done things.
They cleared all my vision blocking brush. A tumbleweed ot two as well? They helped me see.
No -- I didn't kill Tara.
But I did let her be dead.
That part won't ever be part of the not-true. I kissed Kennedy, and I let Tara be dead. I fell in love with Kennedy, and I let her stay that way. And that is the part I was getting back to. The greatest sacrafice I have ever made for love. Tara was my life. She wasn't what made it better, or made it worthwhile. She was just -- what was. Is. Life, and all the messy parts that went with it. The joy, that it lived in. That was Tara. My girl.
And to move on? To stay working towards a Willow that wouldn't let her down, or drag down the parts I like to still remember? I had to let her go. There was dirt for my knees, and a wall for my back. Tara, just at the point where I could still touch her. I thought -- maybe one day I might still touch her.
Then Kennedy, and I thought again. Maybe I would like to try. The living life thing. I wanted to try again. The older, wiser, Giles-cultivated voice in my head said that it was an avenue worth exploring. Buffy thoughts? Hey, if it helps? And Xander? I don't need any of his thoughts on anything close to that subject. I forget how boy he is sometimes.
What did I think?
I like her. I liked Kennedy. And I liked kising her too.
But as much as that was? It was something so much bigger than a chance. Giving up Tara, letting her go so that I could see what healing felt like. Warmth, maybe. And maybe more than I deserved? Love.
My chance. My girl. My sacrafice.
I miss you.
I didn't kill Tara. I know that now. Or at least, the in-the-moment kind of now. When I go back to that place, in my head, I am the girl that forgets. And when I sometimes look ahead, I'm worried that I won't remember. But -- I'll get to that part.
A few walks that I don't recall, best friend time tinged with yellow crayons, and a lot of time spent touching thigs? It helped. It reminded me that the reaching out part still happens, if you are open to it. That if you are lucky, and can't go half way? People like Buffy, and Xander, Giles, and Kennedy will clear the path -- and all the ground next to it. If there is a ditch or two when the dust, and dust settles? Well that is the way we have always done things.
They cleared all my vision blocking brush. A tumbleweed ot two as well? They helped me see.
No -- I didn't kill Tara.
But I did let her be dead.
That part won't ever be part of the not-true. I kissed Kennedy, and I let Tara be dead. I fell in love with Kennedy, and I let her stay that way. And that is the part I was getting back to. The greatest sacrafice I have ever made for love. Tara was my life. She wasn't what made it better, or made it worthwhile. She was just -- what was. Is. Life, and all the messy parts that went with it. The joy, that it lived in. That was Tara. My girl.
And to move on? To stay working towards a Willow that wouldn't let her down, or drag down the parts I like to still remember? I had to let her go. There was dirt for my knees, and a wall for my back. Tara, just at the point where I could still touch her. I thought -- maybe one day I might still touch her.
Then Kennedy, and I thought again. Maybe I would like to try. The living life thing. I wanted to try again. The older, wiser, Giles-cultivated voice in my head said that it was an avenue worth exploring. Buffy thoughts? Hey, if it helps? And Xander? I don't need any of his thoughts on anything close to that subject. I forget how boy he is sometimes.
What did I think?
I like her. I liked Kennedy. And I liked kising her too.
But as much as that was? It was something so much bigger than a chance. Giving up Tara, letting her go so that I could see what healing felt like. Warmth, maybe. And maybe more than I deserved? Love.
My chance. My girl. My sacrafice.
I miss you.