Return to Coming Back Chapter Two

Coming Back

Author: GayNow
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: BtVS characters, concepts and dialog belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, The WB, UPN and others. The story, however, came out of my delusional little brain.

Note: This story uses two fonts to represent Willow and Tara's handwriting in sections. These fonts are available for download here: CatholicSchoolGirls BB and Hybi 4. If these fonts are not installed on your PC, sections of this story will be rendered in large text. Fonts sourced from

Tara walked through LAX trying to locate the car rental desks. She awkwardly pushed the large luggage cart through the crowds and sighed when she saw the sign for the rental company. The blonde said a quick prayer of thanks when she saw there was no one in line. Finally I get a break.

The experience at baggage claim had been painful. For some reason, one of her bags got put on a later flight out of Charlotte and hadn't arrived yet. Because a 3 hour layover isn't enough time for the baggage people to find the right plane. After spending 30 minutes describing the suitcase and filling in a long, incomprehensible "alternate baggage delivery" form so the airline representative could locate it, she was finally assured that the bag would be delivered to her hotel that evening.

The 10 minutes needed to sign the necessary papers for her rental car were few in comparison to the previous 22 hours of flights and layovers and lines. Before long, Tara had made her way to her car and loaded the bags into the trunk. As she walked to the driver's side door of the car, a thought scampered through her head - a thought that made her freeze in place and gasp. Oh please, God, no! Tara returned to the back of the car and hastily popped open the trunk. She frantically began opening bags and rifling through the contents. She sighed in relief as she felt the stack of envelopes buried at the bottom of the third bag. She removed the bundle and cradled it to her chest, as though it were the most precious and valuable thing in the universe. They are. Tara closed the trunk and resumed her trek to get behind the wheel. Once inside the car, she ran her hand along the ribbon binding the envelopes and smiled. If these had been lost, I don't know what I would have done. She gently placed the letters on the passenger's seat, secured her seatbelt, and began her drive to Sunnydale.

Dear Tara,

I don't know when you'll read this. I guess it depends on when you find it. I'm going to put it in your backpack, so you may find it on the plane. Or maybe you won't find it until you unpack. I just hope you find it. I'll be sure not to hide it too well.

You're sleeping right now. I snuck away and I'm writing this in the bathroom so I don't wake you up. I really wish you were awake though. I want to talk to you and I know there won't be time in the morning. So, I'm writing this the the middle of the night.

There's so much I want to tell you, Tare. But, I don't know how. I mean, I know how to tell my mouth and let the words come out. The problem is I don't know what words to use. I don't know how to turn what I'm feeling into words. There are so many words swirling around in my brain, but I don't know which words are the right ones to use. **sigh** I even babble when I write.

I know I've already told you this a zillion times, but I'm going to miss you so much. I don't know how I'm going to handle not having you around. I mean, you're my only friend. Okay, maybe not my only friend, but you're the only friend that matters. No one else understands me like you do. You know what I'm thinking even before I do. It's's like, together, we're the same person. Together we're whole. Does that make sense?

So, I'm afraid I'm only going to be half a person without you here. That scares me, Tara. It really does. Cuz...what happens if I change? Okay, I know I'm going to change...and so are you...but what if I change so much, my half person doesn't fit with your half person anymore? Then we'll never be a whole person anymore and we'll spend the rest of our lives dealing with our half selves.

I just looked back at what I wrote. I'm not sure if it makes any sense. See what I mean? Everything is so jumbled up in my head. Maybe it's a good thing I'm writing this instead of talking to you. I can just picture the 'huh?' look on your face. And I don't know if I could say all of this if we were face to face.

The last month has been so hard. Every time I looked at you, I wanted to cry. And since I was looking at you almost all the time, I wanted to cry almost all the time. Oh! Not that looking at you causes crying for everyone! Cuz, you know, you're beautiful and all. So beautiful it makes me smile when I look at you...but also cry. UGH! I'm not saying this right!

Okay...when I look at you my first thought is "she's beautiful"...and that makes me smile. Cuz your eyes are so the sky or the ocean. But then I think "she's leaving me" and that makes me want to cry...the thought of you going away from me makes my chest hurt. Tara, does that mean my heart is breaking? Cuz I don't like that feeling.

I like the way I feel when you smile at me, though. My favorite smile is when only one side of your mouth goes up and you kinda half smile. I feel all warm inside when you smile like that. My chest hurts too, but it's not a bad kind of hurt. It's like, instead of my heart breaking in pieces, it's being filled up so much it's going to a water balloon. Okay, that wasn't a happy visual place, you get it? I hope so, cuz I don't know if I could explain that again.

I just peeked in the bedroom. You're still asleep. There's enough moonlight coming in the window for me to see you. I sat on the floor next to your sleeping bag for a few minutes and watched you sleep. You were smiling my favorite smile. You must have been dreaming. What were you dreaming about, Tare? Do you remember? It must have been a nice dream.

I‘m back in the bathroom because I thought about you leaving again...and I started to cry. I guess it's better that I cry in here instead of in front of you. I know you'd cry too. I hope I don't cry a lot tomorrow. I don't want all those people at the airport to see me crying. Plus, if my mom and dad see me crying, they'll baby me the rest of the day. I don't want them to baby me. You know how they can be.

Wow. I sure have written a lot. I read the whole thing and I still don't know if I said everything right. Heck, I don't know if I said anything right. But I know I wrote what was in my head. Maybe that's the problem. The stuff in my head almost never makes sense. But, somehow, you always seem to understand me. (How do you do that?) I just hope you understand me now.

Gosh darnit! I'm crying again. I can't seem to stop tonight. Usually I can hold it in, but not tonight. I think it's because it's all so real now. You're really leaving and I can't pretend that you're staying. It was so easy to pretend during the last month cuz we were always together. My mom called us hippies because she said we were “chronically joined at the hip.” I think she just likes the word hippy because it reminds her of when she was younger. I still can't get her to take down that bead curtain she has over the door of the laundry room. It's too weird.

I'm babbling again. I'm sorry.

I think I am going to finish this letter now. I've been in this bathroom for almost 2 hours. (I'm glad no one needed know...go.) Plus, I don't want to be away from you anymore. I've only got you for a few more hours, so I'm going to stay glued to you until you get on the plane.

I already miss you, Tare. Remember, I'm going to miss you every second of every day. I hope you'll miss me too. Write to me as soon as you can, okay?

Love and friends forever,

Willow Rosenberg (duh! You know that!)

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