Season 7 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer is killing me. Okay, exaggeration. It hurts real bad, though. There has been So much trauma and grief and fear, but also hope (except for the very clear 'it just keeps getting worse' messages I'm getting) and strong beautiful relationships and, and...trauma. There are about 8 episodes left. C & I average two at a sitting, with tears, brief spates of rapid fire questioning (from me) met with averted eyes and silence (from C). I can remember (oh so fondly) when we watched 8 hours of Buffy in a single snack filled day, way back in season 3. In spite of the angst and ache of last nights episodes, there were still glorious snippets of dialogue such as...
Buffy: On the Hellmouth. All day, every day. That's gotta be like being showered with evil. Only from underneath.
Not really a shower.
A bidet. Like a bidet of evil.
I mean, that almost makes Spike's agony and Principal Woods childhood scars easy to take..ish.
To sum it up, watching Buffy is like eating wasabi because it's wonderful, and hurts intensely and causes tears. And it's wonderful.