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In Case You’re Wondering What I’m Up To

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In Case You’re Wondering What I’m Up To

Hi, Buffy.

I just thought I’d write to tell you what I was doing. I thought you might be wondering, y’know. I hope you’re missing me back in Sunnydale, despite how hectic everything is for you. Things are going well down South here. Killed a few demons, a couple of vampires. One was really big. I may be your average, normal human being again, but I got him.

Oh, and by the way, I’m dead.

Shocking, huh? I mean, I did put up a good fight, after all. So at least I had that going for me. And, I wasn’t weak and... how did you put it that time? Kitteny. That’s right — kitteny. Well, I wasn’t. I guess I had it in me all along, but no doubt you knew that already.

I’m so sorry for what I did, and I know you may still hate me for it, but at least I know I made the wrong choice. I was depressed, and I guess it was the Hellmouth equivalent of cutting myself. I mean, honestly! Why did I do it? The scars were starting to heal before I finally bit the dust. So I suppose that’s a good thing, but it was like I couldn’t see a way out of it. I knew you didn’t love me anymore. Did you love me at all? I guess part of me believes — or at least hopes — that you did.

When we got stationed here, it finally hit me really. The only one who would listen to me was Graham. That’s the thing, isn’t it? I was so hung up, what with worrying what you were feeling, I didn’t notice the people who really did love me. He was great. He put up with the tears (partly because it is true that I cried, believe it or not — even when I was commando guy), the anger, the fits of rage…

How can one girl cause so many emotions in a guy? I mean, I ask you.

Basically, I was in pain from the start. I was convinced I wasn’t good enough for you... or maybe it was the other way around. I mean, you slept with Parker, for goodness sake. At first I even thought you were — well, it’s so difficult to say, but since I’m dead anyway, I might as well be honest — a whole lot better than that. Still, I fell in love with you. However, I always hated to think about your past — and by your past, I mean the guys you were with before I came along. There is Angel (whom I still refuse to like), and the aforementioned Mr. Abrams. And I guess I was just that little bit jealous of Giles; after all, he had a part of your life that I could never reach.

I wonder what your friends’ll think now. I wonder if they liked me? I couldn’t break through that barrier; I couldn’t ever have been a part of the gang... not really. It just wasn’t possible. It kinda made me angry that Tara seemed to join in easier than I did, but I suppose it was because Willow really loved her.

Sorry. I’m starting to sound bitter. I’m not; it’s just the way I sound at times.

And speaking of which, that is the most odd thing right there. Graham accused me of being bitter a few days ago. I tried to convince him that I was completely over you and I thought I did a good job, but he knew better. He knew it wasn’t the same. He knew I wasn’t putting my heart into it, and it really annoyed me. You’ve ruined my performance; I hope you realize that. Now I think about it, there’s no point in talking about sex anyway — it’s not like I’m ever going to do it again anyway. I’m dead, deceased, finished! I am an ex- Riley! Python humor. Remember that time we watched it together? You really didn’t get it. I had to laugh at that!

Well, I’d better be off. I’m being called. I guess death isn’t that bad when it comes down to it. Maybe I’ll even forget about you then, and you won’t haunt my dreams any more. But deep down, I doubt that. I love you, honestly, truly and with every part of my being. But you don’t love me.

At least shed a tear.

~Riley