Dear AMC’s The Walking Dead (again),
I’ve had nightmares about you for the last four nights in a row.
It’s all your fault, you know. You draw me in with your compelling story telling, make me fall in love with you all over again, and then scare the living daylights out of me. What the hell is your problem anyways?
Lately you’ve been teasing me. You haven’t been rearing your ugly head very much so I think I’m safe. Then all of the sudden you show up at the pharmacy, or in the barn, or at the bottom of the well. Seriously, you had the worst prune fingers I’ve ever seen. It was disgusting. You should really take better care of your personal hygiene.
But I digress.
I’m starting to get worried here. You scare the crap out of me, I leave, and then I come back for more. What in the sam hill is wrong with me? You even tried to help me out. I couldn’t find you at first but eventually I hunted you down. Now I’m convinced that I need therapy.
And yet, here I am, huddled on the couch, covering my eyes half the time while you bitch and moan but don’t really say anything meaningful. Your communication skills are seriously lacking, did you know that? Sometimes I can differentiate between a moan and a groan, but most of the time its like you expect me to read your mind. Well guess what? I can’t. Learn to deal with it you stupid walker. And the way you deal with children is seriously fucked up. Poor Sophia.
I don’t know what to do. I should probably never speak to you again but I know that’s not going to happen. I just really want to know where this relationship is going to end up and I hate having friends tell me what you’ve been up to. I want to find out for myself.
God I hate you so much sometimes!
But I also love you.
Hot Nerd Girl