change of perspective

I don't...

I don't believe it! I did it! Wow! After all those numerous failures, goofy little Jonathon Levinson made good! OK, I died in the process, but...all the same, wow!

You know what the most amazing part was? Seeing all your faces. I know it sounds harsh, but frankly, I also know what you all thought of me, and it's that that makes it all worthwhile. I remember how you were all screaming at me as I went to challenge that son of a bitch (can I swear here? Wait a minute, who cares, I'm dead! I can do what the hell I want!). Jonathon don't be a hero, Jonathon you'll get yourself killed. Jonathon you're such a worthless inadequate with no special gifts or powers whatsoever... OK, you didn't say that last one, but I know that was the subtext. Especially for you, Buffy. See, I think I got to know you pretty well over the years, watching all your little escapades from the outside looking in, and there's one thing you never faced up to. You always thought you were so right. I'm not saying that belittles your successes or the number of people you saved. But frankly, you never got over the fact that you were the Slayer. Sure, you were also in total denial about it too, but that was still part of the whole glorifying image you had going on with yourself. You had to make yourself important one way or another. If it wasn't for something good then it was for a burden: a curse if you will. And that's why you could never trust any of us regular students, because we didn't know -- couldn't know -- all the challenges and trials you had to face, so why look to us for comment.

Well, that was fair enough. But you never showed us the same courtesy in return. After I did that whole business with the alternate universe of Me, you had to rub it into my face. Apologising to you was the hardest thing I ever had to do -- not because I had to accept I was wrong, but because it meant appearing in public and allowing myself to be seen by all those who hated me (yes, I admit, I have paranoia issues). You should have been able to see how uncomfortable I was -- you certainly did when I went up to the Clock Tower. But you didn't; instead you just stuck your fingers into the wound in my soul and tugged hard.

OK, I'll admit; maybe I'm being unfair here. After all, I had just made you feel like your entire life was dedicated to playing second fiddle to me. But it doesn't change what I'm trying to say here. If you don't start accepting that points of view other than your own are valid then one day you're going to get yourself killed. And don't try to say you listen to your friends because I think they'll all admit you don't, right guys? Besides, they all do their part to fulfil your vision as the Tormented One. That's why you're friends with them.

I'm going to end up here. There's clearly a lot of anger I've not yet dealt with, and I don't want to colour the truth with spite, otherwise you could use it as an excuse not to listen. If I have any last thoughts or requests it's this. Don't cry for me. I died achieving what few others have - happiness. I proved to the world and you, and most of all myself, that when push came to shove I could be as heroic as the next regular Joe.

Just think about what I've said here.



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