Gone Away

It's Me

On a warm, crisp day, the residents of Sunnydale were out and about having fun and enjoying what little they had left of their beautiful summer. In the parks children were laughing and playing while their parents talked and caught up with each other. Couples were having picnics under the lengthy, full trees that were home to the singing birds. It seemed every soul in Sunnydale was full with high spirits; all except one. A one Willow Rosenberg.

Willow silently walked the dirt path leading to the cemetery, a place she's been to regularly ever since 10th grade. She walked this path so many times before, but this time it was different. It never meant anything until now. This ordinary road is there for nothing but easier transport to a field of huge, sculpted rocks, until one of those rocks is in place of someone you love. Then, the road becomes more than just easy transport; it becomes the only way you will ever get to see your loved one ever again. For Willow, this was just the case.

She dragged her feet through the tall blades of green grass until finally slowing to a stop at the foot of a tombstone. Reading it slowly, she dropped to her knees to be on eye level with the bold text.

Tara Maclay. October 16, 1980 - May 7, 2002.

Just reading the words brought several degrees of gut-wrenching pain to the frail redhead's heart, and each time she read it, more pain would spread through. Bringing one shaky finger up, she traced along the sacred name so gently, her finger merely brushing them. Her voice straining to escape her throat, she barely managed to whisper, "H-hey." The tears in her eyes spilled rapidly down her cheeks, but she brought the corners of her mouths up in an effort to smile anyway, "It's me."

Whenever the witch needed comfort, Tara was there, at her side giving her the strength she needed to carry on. But now that it was her at the source of Willows mourning, she could no longer be there, and Willow no longer could have the loving support and grounding she so desperately needed. Tara was her light, her joy, her everything. The one and only reason to live. She felt an unbelievably deep connection of love that grounded her whenever the blonde was even in the room. It was a necessity, more so than air. And now that it isn't there anymore, Willow felt like she couldn't breathe, like her lungs were caving in and her ribs were cracked.

Her shaking hands now gripped the headstone tightly, so tight her hands turned white. She thought that if she felt hard enough, it would spark some of the love and passion that was missing from the air. Willow gave up; it was no use. This sudden defeat drove her into harder tears. She can't be gone, willow needed her. She needed her at her side to gather her in a loving and comforting embrace, and not let go until every single tear was gone. No matter badly she yearned for this however, Willow would not get it.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." She wheezed while staring longingly at the headstone, imagining in it's place the flawless face of her soulmate. "I went away. B-but I'm here now and..." she just held her head down in defeat as a fresh wave of tears hit. "I'm sorry! Tara, I am so, so sorry!" her head dropped and rested on the ground under the grave marker. It was the closest possible distance between her and her lost lover.

Rosenberg lay there for quite a while, sobbing into the lush green blades until she finally rose her head to look at the letters one last time. "Tara," she addressed the rock. "I love you. I always will. And I want you to know, you'll always be with me. No matter what." She removed her hand from the ground and put it into her pocket, retrieving two rocks. She then placed the rocks on top of the tombstone before bringing her other hand to her lips and placing a gentle kiss on her finer tips. Dropping her hand next to the other, she gently stroked the top of the grave with the kiss.

Returning back onto the meaningful dirt path, the redhead crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself supportingly. She needed to be brave now, on returning back to the Summers' house. Every soul around her was filled with high spirits, except hers.

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Hi guys! So this is just a little thing I'm working on now, I'm not planning on making it a full blown story unless you guys like it and want me to. Sorry is pretty upsetting, but it'll get better...maybe. >:) but anyway hope you enjoy and I'll try to update soon.