Buffy entered her building and picked up her mail like every other day. She walked up the stairs and entered her apartment, shutting the door behind her as she sorted through the envelopes in her hand.
But today one of them stood out at her. She saw there was no address on the front, just her name. It must have been from someone in the building, or from someone who had been let into the building. Then she realised who that someone could be. She dropped all the other letters and tore it open.
Buffy pulled out the paper inside and started reading it right there in the doorway.
I know it’s a corny thing to say, but you honestly wouldn’t believe how many versions of this letter I’ve written and thrown away.
She hadn’t heard a word from him since she saw him at the Bronze that night. She’d thought seeing him again would shift something, or change her world in some way, but it hadn’t. Everything had been the same, the same as it always was without him. Until now.
A lot has changed Buffy, and I need to tell you about it. You’ll see why I need to tell you once you’ve read it all. I need to tell you some stuff I’m going to do, and make you understand why. I know you probably don’t want to read this letter, but one thing that hasn’t changed is I’m still a coward, and I couldn’t face you to tell you all of this.
I know I did the wrong thing last time, or maybe I did the right thing in the wrong way. I’ve got some problems I need to fix, and I don’t think you’re happy either. I’m gonna try my best to sort myself out, I thought I was making progress, but now I’m not so sure. I’m going away for a while. I thought you should know. But I want you to know that I’m not leaving you again, it’s not like that.
Please don’t think it’s like that.
I know you saw us last week at the bronze, but I doubt you actually heard much, we’re pretty good, me and the band. I haven’t been with them long, but we’ve gelled together so quickly. They had a lot of half finished songs that I seemed to have the missing parts for, it’s like destiny, and before we knew it we had songs, a set list, and a venue.
I got my old boss to let us play at the Bronze a few times a week, and last week someone came to see us play. And the band might be getting signed! The guy who came to watch us wants to road test us in England!
England she thought. She knew he’d always wanted to go there, see the country his dad was born in. He couldn’t remember all his trips there when he was younger, but apparently him, Giles and his mother had gone twice a year. As he was growing up he confessed to Buffy that he’d purposely let go of those memories, because after his mom died he hated remembering when they were all happy.
These were the things I said I needed to tell you about, because you deserve to hear from me that I’m leaving, and you need to know why, because I would hate it if you only heard half the story and thought I was leaving because of you. Well, in a way I am, but not in the bad sense.
Buffy stopped, What the hell did that mean? She moved over to the couch, sat down and turned the page over.
I’m not leaving to get away from you, or what happened, even though I think that’s still a good idea given where we are. But this does have something to do with you. Being with you showed me I could be better. It also showed me I was far from who I wanted to be, but it made me believe I could be that person eventually, with some hard work, because you made me believe in myself. I admit that when I first left you I didn’t want to do…anything, but I realised what we had must have been for a reason, and I had to learn from my mistakes.
Mistakes?
I want you to know I think of you all the time, and am grateful everyday to you for giving me the strength to follow my dreams. I want this so much, but I’d hate it if you saw this as me leaving you. It isn’t like that.
And it isn’t forever, I’ll be back in a few months, then maybe we can talk? I don’t know if you want that, after the stuff you said at the Bronze it seems I haven’t got a clue what you’re thinking even though I thought I did.
I think I did the right thing in leaving, but I’m so confused.
I know all I seem to do is apologise, but I’m sorry for what happened the other night outside the club, I don’t even know what happened really, and I’m sure you don’t either.
That was for sure.
But I think it was just the shock at seeing you, I want to be around you, and it hurts not to be, but when I’m with you I can’t control myself, the night before I left I proved as much, but its not just that, it was the other night too, saying all those things to you. I was pushing you. I do believe you that there was nothing going on with you and that guy, but you’re right, it’s none of my business even if there was, and I can’t get my head around that.
It just proved to me that I’m still not ready to be in your life, because I have this feeling deep down that you belong to me, and that’s a horrible thing to think.
No its not, she thought, because I do…And you belong to me. She moved onto the second sheet of paper and carried on reading, seeing it was coming to an end.
I don’t know what to think about us anymore Buffy, I thought it would get easier without you, but it’s just got harder. It kills me that I don’t know how you feel about it all, and that doesn’t help my confusion.
Just know that I love you.
Spike.
Buffy sat for a moment catatonic, thinking about his last words, in what way he meant them, and if that really mattered. Then she stood up, went into her bedroom, opened the bottom draw of her desk, turning the key and pulling it out, placed the letter gently inside, and locked it away.
A week later she got something else from him in her mailbox. She picked it up and turned it over. On the front it just said ‘Buffy’ and she recognised the handwriting from his first letter.
She didn’t want another letter, but as she held it she could feel something solid inside it, it wasn’t just a letter. In fact when she ripped it open she found it wasn’t a letter at all. There was a CD case inside, and on the front was a post-it note that said ‘Play me.’
She walked back up to her flat, heart in her throat.
Entering her apartment she didn’t even check if she’d closed the door behind her properly, she walked straight up to her CD player and put in the CD.
She walked stoically to the couch and sat waiting. Eventually she heard the sound of a piano, and her stomach flipped with each chord. Slowly the song built and then she heard Spike’s voice come in.
“Shine the headlight, straight into my eye.
Like the road kill,
I’m paralysed.”
Buffy didn’t realise it, but she had pulled a cushion onto her lap, and was now hugging it close to her chest.
“You see through my disguise.”
A tear slid down her face.
Buffy hugged the cushion tighter as she let her tears fall. She couldn’t stop them now, and part of her didn’t want to. The song finished and nothing else played, he must have just recorded that one song for her to hear. She lay down on the couch, suddenly not having much strength or will to get up, and she continued to cry.
It was a beautifully bittersweet song. But she wasn’t crying because it was beautiful, or because it was bittersweet. She was crying because she realised it wasn’t a song to make her forgive him, or even a song to make her want to talk to him again. It wasn’t a song he’d written to win her back.