In the few months since Tara had risen, things had been...less than ideal. Every day seemed like an endless struggle, guilt eating her up inside and threatening to swallow her entirely. Guilt for being alive when she for all intents and purposes should be six feet under, guilt for not letting anyone know she was back, but most of all, what killed her the most was the guilt of not trying harder to contact Willow. She missed her former girlfriend each and every day, her love for the other woman growing more and more with every passing moment, despite not seeing her in— God, how long had it even been now?
Despite the fact that they had just recently reunited when Tara had passed, she had to guess that it had taken Willow some time to mourn her death, only for Tara to pop up and completely interrupt the time it took her beloved to heal. She had originally decided that it absolutely wasn't fair to Willow, but now? Now, she had to admit that it had a little more to do with her irrational fear. Tara wasn't the same woman she had been when she'd passed. Now, she felt broken, somehow. It was as if she was just on autopilot, doing whatever it took to survive. Was it fair to bring that into Willow's life? Who else's life would she been destroying in the process? It wasn't crazy to think that Willow— beautiful, intelligent, perfect Willow— had found someone else by now. Tara had to admit, her reluctance to find out had had a big part of her not visiting sooner.
But now? Now, she realized that she had been given a gift, being brought back like this, no matter how wrong it seemed. And it was that thought that had her staring at crumpled up paper in her hand, containing Willow's current address. Feeling as if her heart was going to beat right on out of her chest, she lifted her hand and knocked tentatively.
