Sometimes it hits me.
It's always harsh; sharp in its impact, and often unforgiving after the open hand has been drawn back. It is the constant undeniable fact of our struggle. It never matters how long we do this. The length of time we spend struggling isn't the point, because there are no measurements in infinity. The struggle will continue long after we've turned to dust, and then longer still. I don't mind it. What I really mind are the unforeseen almost karmic consequences any of us are forced to suffer as a result of the good we've tried to accomplish. It's aggravating having to even think about this. I can already count two people off the top of my head who might turn around and smack me upside the head. They'd tell me I need to shut up and stop complaining; that my curse is now in the past and I shouldn't allow myself to stress what might be coming. It might be true and it might not be, but I'm not worried about myself any longer. There are still other people within-network who almost seem to be suffering a greater curse than I was.

Last night, something frightening took place.
I left my room at The Hyperion on my way to go out and make rounds, but felt the all too familiar sensation that came with losing my soul again. That was bad enough, and I was floored by it. Literally; I fell to my knees, but was then belted yet again by the abrupt return of my soul before Angelus could even get back to his feet. Now I'm terrified. What am I supposed to do? When Ron Snyder told Buffy he and Faith were going to Ireland to speak with Romani about removing the curse they put on me all those years ago, I was furious, and for good reason. He told Buffy this in the hopes she'd wake up from the coma she put herself in, and I didn't think it was right he would try to get Buffy's hopes up over something others have tried before and failed. But, but last night? Did it really happen? Spike has his soul back without needing a curse, so I knew it was possible, but Angelus was cursed. I'm the product of this curse, and I've long since gotten used to believing I'd never know perfect happiness again. What happened back there? Did it... I already asked this. Are Buffy and I going to know perfect happiness again because of something Snyder's accomplished?

I don't know what I should do at this point.
I really don't want to have to thank that insufferable bastard...

I visited what I believe might be the spot where my father was buried.  It's hard to tell.  The cemetery is long gone, and I suppose I should just be relieved they didn't build an expressway over it. 

I found Galway, but I couldn't find any trace of the village I remember.  I used the forest along the main road as a point of reference.  Galway was once dwarfed by the forest; now the reverse is true.  I recognized some of the stones I came across as I walked.  It served well enough as a turning point, and I shortly found myself standing in a clearing.  It had a scent I was familiar with.  The dead rested around me, and it was obvious they had for centuries. 

I killed my father...
No...  not me, but the demon that became me when I was turned by Darla.  He was my fourth victim that night, but he was the first of the ones I thought were significant.  I sometimes wonder if he can see me now from wherever I sent him, and whether or not he would have forgiven me for the sins of Angelus.

I also wonder if he might have been proud of me for the efforts I've made to make things right in the world.
The one time I felt anything other than his shame, I was too young to appreciate it. 

Dear Diary, 

Someone once told me she never passed on a good cliche.  Evidently, I don't either.  I can't believe I just started things this way, but now that I've put pen to parchment, I don't think I can go back and change it.  Not sure why, just don't think I can.  The last eight years have been more than a little interesting for me, and now I find myself escaping the world I got used to in an effort to keep it from staying that way.  I'm tired of death, and I'm tired of the big decisions.  All I want to do is live as normal a life as I can.   I discovered recently how unlikely this is going to be.  I chose Dublin on a whim, and found what looks suspiciously like a Hellmouth.  I think it's a little strange I haven't found any slayers around, but I know a sign when I see one.  

Fine.