Shoot.
There are some memories attached to today’s post.
While not the biggest fan, for a while I was pretty into “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” My friend Erica and I would buy Haagen-Dazs, huddle in her dorm, and blitz through entire seasons of “Buffy” on days when we were tired of school.
I tend to like side characters more than the protagonist, which is especially true of “Buffy” and “How I Met Your Mother.” Seriously, Ted. No one cares about your problems.
Even though Buffy got on my nerves, I enjoyed watching Xander, Willow, and Giles and tried to imagine a show where they had wacky adventures while Buffy sat at home being terrible and making bad choices. I had reservations when Seth Green joined the “Buffy” cast. I hadn’t seen him pull off “monosyllabic musician.” I was 19! I didn’t know better!
Oz quickly became my favorite part of the show. When Oz and Willow fell in love, I couldn’t handle it. When people talk relationship goals, they always mention Chandler and Monica or Lilly and Marshall. For me, it was Oz and Willow.
That is, until they broke up.
“Broke up” doesn’t quite cover it. Oz cheated on Willow with a rogue werewolf, got caught by Willow, murdered said werewolf when she tried to kill Willow, then decided to skip town.
I tried–and failed–to explain the above to my then-boyfriend without crying. Three years later, I’m still having a hard time. Oz was such a great boyfriend. He and Willow were great together. It hurt to watch him screw up his relationship and know it couldn’t be fixed.
“Oz, don’t you love me?”
“My whole life I’ve never loved anything else.”
Need cheering up?
Yikes. How to follow that up? Quick, internet, find me something funny!
Close enough.
Narrative Paradise 