“The thing about the dance is, you never get to stop. Every day you wake up, it’s the same bloody question that haunts you: is today the day I die? Death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or later it’s gonna catch you. And part of you wants it… not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you’re just a little bit in love with it. Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day. That final gasp. That look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know: what’s it like? Where does it lead you? And now, you see, that’s the secret. Not the punch you didn’t throw or the kicks you didn’t land. Every Slayer… has a death wish. Even you. The only reason you’ve lasted as long as you have is you’ve got ties to the world… Your mum, your brat kid sister, the Scoobies. They all tie you here, but you’re just putting off the inevitable. Sooner or later, you’re gonna want it. And the second… the second that happens… You know I’ll be there. I’ll slip in… Have myself a real good day. Here endeth the lesson.”
I’ve been alive a bit longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that. I’ve seen things you couldn’t imagine, and done things I’d prefer you didn’t. I don’t exactly have a reputation for being a thinker; I follow my blood, which doesn’t exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I make a lot of mistakes. A lot of wrong bloody calls. A hundred plus years, and there’s only one thing I’ve ever been sure of. You. Hey, look at me. I’m not asking you for anything.
I am an emotional wreck right now.
