Monday, November 26, 2012

Dear Buffy,

Hey B, I always forget how young you were when you raised an army and battled an apocalypse while still maintaining gorgeous hair and sassy comebacks. I'm four years older than you were and I can barely get out of my pajamas without crying. In fact, I'm still in my jamies right now, but it's only because I have a slight cold. And by cold I mean history of depression, haha, just kidding, maybe. I really need a Willow and a Xander... but I get that no one will love me until I love myself first and other hallmarky crap. I think that's why I need to move, like you did from Sunnyvale to San Francisco, to have a new start and leave the old demons behind and maybe try a new life where I'm a better person and more helpful to others. I wish I was as strong as you. Honestly, If I could be as strong now as you were when you were 15, I'd be set. Sometimes I wish I lived on a literal hellmouth so I would be forced to grow up, or be sired and live forever in the legion of the undead.

P.S. Please stake this Edward dude soon; he's really getting on my nerves,


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