B, Every time I walk by your grave there's another piece of paper. This time it'll be mine. I'm not so good at this letter-writing thing, so excuse the grammar and spelling. I'm here, B. I'm alone, 'cept for Angel (don't worry. just friends), and we don't even talk that much. I'm keeping an eye on things. Town's safe, once a Slayer got back into the mix. Weird to be reactivated after all this time. Jail wasn't too much fun. God, B, what were you thinking? No, don't answer that. I know what you were thinking. What you were always thinking-about anything else but yourself. That's how you were, even with me. And I can't help but think that it should be me looking down on things, or looking up probably, not you. If I could have stayed on the straight and narrow. but I guess that's ancient, huh? I'm not gonna go into a big spiel on how much I loved you. Saying it once should be enough. I Love You. I miss you and I'm sorry. I wish things were different. You changed my life. I still think of you as my friend and I hope you're watching me. I think about that a lot and it makes me feel better, picturing you up there, harp and all, flying around in a toga or whatever angels wear. Kick a little heavenly butt up there, though okay? Gotta be a little rebel-rouser up there somewhere, else what fun would heaven be?

--F