what I lost.
At first, i was sad to see the show end because I feel as if some of my best friends died. Cause, you know they all were dead at the end, right? Spoiler alert. But as I thought about it I slowly realized that all of my best friends are tv characters. Let me say that again, all of my best friends are tv characters. When Captain Kirk died in Generations, I cried; when Dumpledore died, I cried; when Sara and Chuck got together, I cried; when Dawn and Tim finally kissed, I cried; when Claire had her baby (again), I cried (again). Tv characters become my family, my friends, my life; when they're sad, I'm sad; when they're happy, I'm happy.
I could go on and on about what this means for me and what this says about me, but I already know the answers to those questions and to repeat them to myself would be; redundant. I already know that my inability to form stable, meaningful relationships with real people is what drives me to my apartment and urges me to turn on my tv. I already know that to have a relationship with a tv character is such an easy thing; that they are there when you want them, can be left behind without regard when I want and requires no work from me but to turn on the tv. Believe me, I know.
So as I was lying in bed last night, thinking about the vast emptiness I've created in my life and beginning to truly understand what it meant that my best friends are tv characters and that I had just lost a lot of them; coupled with the feeling that in the end all of the survivors had waited for each other, that they were so important to each other that they would wait until they were all together again before moving on. I remembered a scene from Star Trek, a scene that struck a chord with me a long time ago but for reasons I couldn't explain, suddenly became all too clear. Kirk, who nearly fell to his death at the beginning of Star Trek V, explained that he knew he wasn't going to die, he knew he wasn't going to die because his friends were there and that he knew: "I've always known I would die alone."
As much as I fret and worry and fear and wallow and grieve that I will die alone; it has become painfully obvious, and somehow comforting, that I will die alone. There will be no friends or family or whatever to be there with me, to wait for me at the end, to help me to get through it. I think though that I feel better knowing it. I think that confronting it, that recognizing the inevitability of it and accepting the truth of it gives me a serenity.
I may have lost something I love last night, but I feel as if I've found another piece of myself.
Cheers