The people you love the deepest, are the ones who will hurt you the most.
Shut Up, Dr Phil.
Let's face it -- a zombie can chew through your brain stem and suck on your cerebrum without ever having bought you flowers or remembered your birthday.
This is not a meta.
It sort of is. I mean it's my usually stream of pseudo-intellectual analysis but I am too deeply mired in my own view of Sam and Dean to even pretend anything like objectivity anymore.
Seven years. Hell, I haven't had a relationship that lasted that long.
So. This week. Lots of love. The boys learned that their relationship would be healthier if they were gay. Then Sam put his stuff in Dean's trunk and everything was fine. Heart eyes all round.
As usual fandom will argue over who's right and who's wrong but it really doesn't matter. In fact it's entirely beside the point.
"We're supposed to struggle with this Dean. That's the point."
Sam said that a long time ago. He was referring to the job, to hunting, but it applies pretty well to their relationship.
Dean was pretty depressed back then too.
Sam and Dean's relationship is just a microcosm of the bigger themes of the show, and if that's told us anything, it's that what's right and wrong or good or evil can change depending on which corner of the room you're standing in on a given day.
Sam and Dean traverse the map on an endless game of snakes and ladders. Route 66 never ends, it just loops round an endless parade of quirky motels and gaily decorated diners. The whole show is about the journey, not the destination.
Even death is not an end point for the Winchester anymore. In the tradition of Camus they are absurd heroes. Camus defined the absurd as the conflict between our drive to find meaning and purpose in a world that was inherently devoid of authentic truths, or God.
Over seven years Sam and Dean have learned, we have learned, that their mission, their raison d'etre "saving people, hunting things. The family business" has no inherent meaning. Who should be saved and who should be hunted is in the eye of the beholder. And family – we'll it comes in many forms and it don't end with blood, and it won't make you an apple pie. And God certainly, has left the building.
Camus uses the legend of Sisyphus as an example. He was a man who defied the gods, and chained death. (Sound like anyone we know?) As punishment, he was condemned to perform the endless task of pushing a boulder up a hill, only to see it roll down again. Rinse. Repeat.
That's what Dean and Sam do – they keep on hunting and trying to save people and dealing with family business. Again and again and again. They can't escape to a normal life. They can't escape through death. The monsters keep coming. Sam and Dean will argue by the Impala next to a lake. And they'll push and pull at themselves and each other and move on again.
The tragedy occurs – according to Camus - when Sisyphus acknowledges the hopelessness of his task. Maybe Dean is at that point now.
But then Camus says if he can embrace this "The struggle itself...is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy."
And maybe that's what we can hope for Sam and Dean.
Or for any of us.