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Leann Rimes’ Blue
Post- Hells Bells
Blue
Oh, so lonesome for you
Why can’t you be blue over me?
Blue
Oh, so lonesome for you
Tears fill my eyes ’til I can’t see
Three o’clock in the morning, here I am
Sittin’ here so lonely, so lonesome I could cry
Blue
Oh, so lonesome for you
Why can’t you be blue over me?
Now that it’s over, I realize
Those weak words you whispered,
Were nothing but lies
Blue
Oh, so lonesome for you
Why can’t you be blue over me?
Why can’t you
Be blue over me?
First had come the anger, then the bitterness and then the terrible, aching aloneness.
The anger was easy. “How could you do this to me, Xander Harris? I have punished men like you for centuries for doing what you did to me!”
Along with the anger came the plotting of various vengeances she would take on Xander. That helped a lot. The more bloody, gory and inventive her imagined vengeances, the better she felt. But then she was no longer angry, only bitter.
She told herself she hated Xander, but that wasn’t true, and Anya prided herself on her truthfulness. The truth was, she hated herself for falling into the same trap as so many other women. She knew better! Anyanka had been a force to reckon with, showing no pity—no mercy. Any yet, she had allowed herself to become vulnerable. . . trusting. . . she had believed things would be different with Xander.
She had known the odds and yet she had allowed herself to believe she and Xander would grow old together, remaining best friends, having lots of orgasms, and eventually producing 2.2 tiny pink children, although her research had not yet clarified exactly what having a .2 child entailed or how one went about doing so.
When she could not hold on to the anger and bitterness, she was left with only this huge, echoing emptiness.
The Scoobies couldn’t fill it. Although they had tried to be kind and supportive of her, Anya knew they weren’t really her friends. She was very aware that they were, first and foremost, Xander’s friends, and she had been tolerated as the girlfriend-slash-appendage of Xander, and now that she was no longer that, they would begin to shut her out.
When they discovered she had returned to demonhood, they might actively shun her. . . or worse! It probably wouldn’t even matter to them that Vengeance Demons retained their souls, which was very inconsistent to them, as the rules seemed to be: souled beings—whether human, demon, witch or ex-demon were acceptable; unsouled beings, even if chipped, were not. So, logically, even though she was again a demon, she was a souled demon, so she should still be on the “in” side, but she wasn’t holding her breath that they’d see things logically.
D’Hoffryn and Hallie and her other demon friends couldn’t fill it, either. No, they were all: It was just an aberration, Anyanka. You’ll get over him. He’s not worth it. Concentrate on your work and you’ll forget about him in no time. Blah, blah, blippety blah.
Nothing seemed to be able to fill the huge Xander-sized hole (and it was just her luck that the hole was even bigger than it should have been, due to the 20 lbs. he packed on during his pre-wedding nervous eating binge). Wasn’t that just like him? Not content with leaving a regular Xander-sized emptiness, no! He had to go and leave an as-big-as-possible emptiness! And she didn’t deserve it! It wasn’t her fault!
She had tried to be the woman he wanted! She was polite to his friends—most of the time. She had a career and her own source of income so she wasn’t a burden that had to be supported and taken care of, like Dawn.
She varied her hair color to keep things exciting, so their sexual relationship would not become ho hum and boring and so they could continue to give each other many orgasms.
She’d even met him at the door, encased in Saran wrap, like that book had suggested, and it wasn’t her fault that was the night he had brought Tony and Bob home with him for a beer—it’s not like he called and let her know. He was the one who had been inconsiderate!
What had gone wrong? Why wasn’t what they had enough for him? Did he realize how rare and special they were together? How could he just throw it all away for no good reason? What was wrong with him?
Did he miss her? Did he have an Anya-sized emptiness in him? Even if he did, it wouldn’t be as painful, because she, unlike some people she could name, had maintained her trim, sexy figure in spite of the pre-wedding jitters.
Blue, Oh, so lonesome for you. Why can’t you be blue over me?
Did I matter to you? Did you really love me? Why did you leave? Why can’t you be blue over me? Why does it hurt so much? Why can’t I just make it stop? Why. . .
The End
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