NOTE: Spoilers ahead.
Long time, no see. I feel like it had been a year or more since our last visit, but this past week has just been full of your shiny, blood-spattered face. And usually, that would be okay.
But I’ve got a secret of my own, Dex, and it’s this: you’re starting to bore me.
I remember the good old days. Watching you turn on your own brother. Seeing you slash and hack apart that bastard that killed your wife. I mean, we all know that she was a little naggy sometimes, but she was something normal to hold on to, to help you through the hard times. And then that run in with the religious fanatics. Yikes! What a mess that one was!
However, these days just don’t compare. Yes, you’ve got a foreign bad guy after you. Yes, he’s totally gay (I told you so, by the way. I’ve seen the eye he gives you sometimes.) Yes, you’ve got a saucy girl on your arm, and a sister who loves you more than you know.
She made that painfully obvious a few nights ago.
Other than that, you don’t really have a whole lot going on. It’s nice to see you in “Daddy Mode” every once in a while, but it just gets old after a while. Week after week, you promise that things will get better, and like the fool that I am, the Stockholm syndromed blood-whore that I am… I believe you. Time and time again.
I’m not going to be here forever, Dexter. This isn’t a break-up letter. I’m not leaving you. I still care very deeply about you and those around you.
But something’s got to change if you want me to stay. You’ve just seemed so stodgy recently. Lighten up! Have a little fun, the best way you know how.
That’s what we love about you, Dex. It’s weird, I know. But we love you for all the little things you don’t want the world to know, all the little imperfections. The way you wrap an unconscious body to a table. The little gleam in your eye as you plunge the knife in and rid the world of one more piece of human filth.
It’s the little stuff that keeps us coming back for more. It’s why we love you, why we can never leave.
But seriously, Dex. It’s becoming a funeral in there, and that’s not a joke about the dead bodies that are piling up. Bring the magic back. Slice somebody open and dump them in the bay for old time’s sake. Please? For us?
P.S.: That Sirko guy? Yeah, don’t trust him. He’s just making you feel bad with all that lovey-dovey stuff so he can have the upper hand. Trust me. Kill him.