*****

Dear Diary,

One of these days I'm gonna come up with a better name for you than 'Diary'. Honest. Just...not today. Too much weirdness on my mind to worry about it. But...soon.

So...weirdness. Right.

Did you ever have one of those moments where you step back away from yourself and just 'look'. At who you are, who your were...who you are becoming?

I did. Today in fact.

I was at work. Don't get me wrong. I love my job, and that is so not something I thought I'd ever say, but it's true. Especially now. It's soothing, relaxing and it's...good. Big plus, I'm good *at* it as well. See, I go into work and I use my mind and my body and I build things. At the end of the day I can see what I did and know that I did a good job. I don't need anyone else to validate my reasons for being there, I can see it with my own eyes.

And for those hours that I'm there...I'm *there*. You know? Not thinking. Not worrying. Not slowly dying inside from missing her. It's a mini refuge for me.

And that's okay.

The only thing is...I'm different now. I'm not who I used to be. Not just on the surface...but down deep inside where it really counts.

I never noticed. Until it was pointed out to me.

No. No one at work sat me down and held an intervention. Nothing like that. That's a Willow thing and her intervention resulted in this journal. It wasn't anything like that at all. I just overheard Mario talking to the new guy. You know, giving him the tour of the site, the run down of his job, and a heads up on all the little things he needs to know. Everyone gets that sort of speech at the very beginning.

But this time...*I* was a part of the "tour". More specifically, I was a "heads up" so that he would be warned in advance not to mess with me.

Mario told this...kid, really...just fresh from High School, to "step lightly around Harris over there" and things would be fine. This struck me as odd because I've never had any problems at work. Ever. No arguments, no fights, nothing. So...curious, I listened in.

It seems that while I have an excellent reputation for quality work and putting in long hard hours that I've also, and much more recently, gained a rep as a time bomb with an itchy trigger finger. Mario gave the kid an abbreviated version of Anya's death and then told the new guy that I went from being a cheerful friendly person to one who rarely spoke. He also told the kid that I had been spotted around town on several occasions engaging in fist fights. Apparently someone had seen me and Spike hunting demons, put two and two together and got five.

To be honest, it didn't really bother me to know that the guys on the crew see me as a bit dangerous, but it did make me think.

When I was a kid...that new guy's age even, I wasn't like this. Time and events change a person. Molding them, shaping them...slicing away the things that aren't necessary. Some events add to you, making you more than you were before...while others peel away at the topmost layers. Sort of like an onion. Until you are nothing but the raw core of yourself.

So much time has gone by and so many events have happened to me since I was that young kid. Now...when I look in the mirror I can barely recognize myself. I'm someone completely new...and I'm still changing. In a few months, I'll be a whole other person once again.

Some people have to work hard to reinvent themselves. Me...I just have to keep waking up every morning. Maybe those people should try vacationing on the Hellmouth or something.

Anyway, I was thinking about who I had once been. Happier, certainly. But a lot less confident in myself and my strengths. My priorities were different back then too. At that point in my life I was obsessed with proving myself and with pleasing others. Making them proud of me.

Now...I don't have anything left to prove. I survived it all. I know that one day the Hellmouth will kill me and I'm fine with that. But I also know that I will take a chunk of it with me when I go. I know my strengths and my weaknesses and I know how to use both to my best advantage.

And to be perfectly honest...I don't really care about whether or not I please anyone. The only one I want to make happy is dead and buried.

So...I find myself staying quiet and holding a bit of myself back from everyone. Not because I'm afraid of hurting anyone's feelings by actually saying what's on my mind...but because that would lead to complications I just don't care enough about to deal with. I offer up shaky half-smiles when it's called for and just agree with the majority to keep the status quo. People stay off my case and don't look too hard at what I really feel and what I chose to do with my spare time. I like it that way.

The real question is...the only one that causes a little nagging voice of doubt inside my brain is this. What does it say about me that the only person I feel I can truly be myself around is a bleached blonde, punked out, soulless demon who would rather be killing humans?

If I'm already at the point where the only being I can *honestly* relate to anymore is *Spike*...who, or what, am I gonna be in a few months?

And without Anya by my side, does it even matter?

Alexander L. Harris

END