Yesterday I had a really hard day. I wrote something for a magazine and a lot of my "friends" posted things on there about how much of a bitch I am. It really hurt my feelings. I mean they didn't pull me out of a heavenly demension, make me dig out of my own grave, and then plop me straight into a biker fight, but that's because I guess they don't really love me. I guess they really aren't my friends. It was really hard for me. And my true friends were loyal and wonderful, of course, but it just sucked to be reminded that most people see me as a villian. It's not like I thought I was a hero, but I just thought I was a non-important character that didn't matter. It hurts a lot that I do matter, but in the bad way. I feel like something's wrong with me. I feel like how you must have felt when you came back and you realized Spike could hit you even though he had his chip in. I'm broken.
I love my scoobies, and I love you.