By Minim Calibre<\/p>\n
Notes: Spoilers through Dead Things. Buffy\/Spike, PG.<\/p>\n
I don’t want to ask myself why; I don’t want to know the answer\u2014but if I didn’t come back wrong, what the hell am I doing?<\/p>\n
She’s trying to understand, to empathize. But this isn’t like when Mom died. There’s just nothing that can prepare her for something like this.<\/p>\n
Whatever “this” is.<\/p>\n
His skin is so cold that when I touch him, I almost feel warm again. He tells me I belong in the dark; maybe he’s right. The dark is soothing against the bright, harsh light of day.<\/p>\n
What the hell have I done? This isn’t me. It’s not.<\/p>\n
Tara hands me a tissue and I realize she’s still trying to make me feel better, even after everything I’ve told her, everything I’ve said. Everything I’ve done.<\/p>\n
If I’m not a monster, then what the hell am I? And why do I only feel like myself again after I’ve been with one?<\/p>\n
And why can’t it ever last long enough for me to be myself with them?<\/p>\n
She tells me that I’m still me, that I didn’t come back wrong…<\/p>\n
They say it’s a thin line between love and hate. They’re wrong. It’s more like a mobius strip and I don’t know which side of it I’m on anymore. I don’t know which side any of us are on.<\/p>\n
I don’t know which one I was punishing in the alley, the monster or the man. It’s all twisted up.<\/p>\n
“You always hurt the one…”<\/p>\n
Oh, God. I don’t want to go there. I can’t.<\/p>\n
I wish Giles were here.<\/p>\n
I want someone to lie to me.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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