Somewhere during the night I became aware of the increasing difficulty I was having with movement. Not just walking - my stride had long since slowed to a trudge, then further downgrading to a shuffle - but any sort of movement at all. At my sides hung iron weights that had never once resembled arms, and my chest constricted harshly with each agonizing breath. Even my eyelids were suffering, and blinking began such an effort that I took several steps without benefit of sight, a feat that ended with a trip and a fall and a scrape on each of my palms that stung fiercely. But I didn't find reason to mind that, for it was something different than the vacancy I had felt before.

At least now I was feeling something. The burning pain was something .. wasn't it?

I hated this life.

Not many can say that. The realization dawned on me with the coming morning as I drew my legs to my aching chest, resting my chin atop my knees. Most just have the ability to hate life, the only life they are given to live. I, however, hated the life I was living. The prior one had been acceptable .. even with the nightly dangers that threatened existance as I had known it. That life was all right. I should have known that before. But I was a foolish girl in that life, even when I knew what I had was more than anyone else could dream of. I should have been more grateful. I should have done more than I did. I should have hugged Mom more, should have fought less with Giles, should have had that sleepover Willow always asked to have, even though I thought we were too young for those things ..

.. I shouldn't have let him leave.

I felt the involuntary tightening of my heart in my ribcage, the constriction of my chest that always inhibited breathing, and the finale of burning behind my eyes that screamed what a bad idea this train of thought had been to my unlistening mind. But it was too late, ridiculously too late to turn back, and I found the flashes of our goodbyes blazing their unrelenting images on the now drenched screen of my eyelids. He had left, and I hadn't stopped him, but I should have. Oh, I should have. What a fool I was, to let the only thing I had ever loved walk out of my life right before my eyes. I should have followed him to Los Angeles, made him come back, stayed with him, ripped apart every historical volume in search of a way to end that horrid curse, or taken a vow of celibacy and pledged myself to only him for the rest of my days.

The choking, harsh sob that escaped my throat sounded so foreign that I gave an involuntary start and forced myself to stand. It was more of an effort again, for my legs had buckled into a painful position that requiured a strengthened effort to rise. Tears streamed down my face, and I had no choice but to squint into the dawn of a new morning.

Another worthless new morning! I swiped my hand across my eyes again, and thankfully the tears showed signs of slowing. Willow had done what she thought was right .. I knew this in the heart that still kept beating time in my chest amidst its constant aching. She had wanted me with her, with everyone again, because they needed me. But what no one had realized was how happy I had been where I was. There was no burning inferno waiting for me, only an endless, gentle light. I had been happy there .. but happiness was snatched away by well meaning friends and desperation for a protector that had earned her rest.

I was walking now, away from the sun and away from its lovely rays that reminded me of what I had left behind. I hated rememberances, but it was self torment .. I had become quite the masochist in my .. third life, it was now. Sometimes it seemed easiest to end things again and be at peace .. but the knowledge that peace had long since departed echoed in my violently protesting mind.

I was tired of listening to it.

Home was a beacon of relative safety in the distance and I climbed the steps carefully, passing Dawn's room with practiced silent movements to avoid waking her and closed the door to my own room. Letting my legs fold once more I sank into the welcome coolness of the blankets and curled up again, letting sleep wash over me. In the last threads of consciousness I thought about how easy it would be to pick up the phone .. dial .. hear his voice ..

.. and then I realized he more than likely wouldn't even answer.

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