Sometimes, I get a bit attached to television shows. Gilmore Girls was probably the most obviously obsessive over the years…since I watched the seasons on repeat through my last two years of college. But there is a close second—Friday Night Lights. Last night marked the end of this series, one that I dearly love, and I can’t bring myself to watch the last episode yet. I keep looking at it in my Hulu queue this morning, but I don’t want to say good-bye yet. I remember how sad I was when I finished the last episode of Gilmore Girls, and I feel like this will be just as bad. I am fully aware that this is ridiculous. It’s okay. I sobbed when Growing Pains was over too, to the point that my mom suggested not letting me watch the last episode of Full House. It’s not a new ridiculous. Andy does the same thing (not the crying part). Anytime we finish watching a show on Netflix, we are both kind of sad about it and go through a whole “I can’t believe it’s over” time period. But this one…this one is tough. I so love Coach Taylor, and Tami, and the team. I don’t want to say good-bye to Tim Riggins and his greasy hair.
Okay….I’m getting control of myself. Melodramatic moment controlled. At least Jason Katims’s other show, Parenthood, will be back in the fall. If I can’t hang out with the Taylors and all of Dillon, Texas, at least I’ll have the Bravermans.
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