Look, I know it’s not really ending. I know a lot of us will still be here years after the fact, writing and drawing and gushing over this dumb, frustrating, gorgeous piece of television. It’s not that.
It’s that I have run through crowded metro stations to be home in time for this show. I’ve left my bike in the rain in my haste to liveblog, and after the credits rolled, I wrote an episode coda. It’s that this show had a habit of finding us–the lost, the scared, the broken–and giving us the strength to pull ourselves out of our own personal hells. It became a tether. It grounded us. Introduced us to our friends, our partners, our found families.
Because the story resonated; there is something so powerful about angels dressed like tax accountants, standing under street lamps on the side of a highway–the voice is almost out of minutes. There is something so powerful about an angel choosing rebellion because of one human man. Our heroes sleep in cheap motels and eat shitty gas station food. They’ve lived out of their car. They’ve struggled with loneliness and self-loathing and addiction. They’re real people. Regular people. And there’s something so powerful about humans fighting for the right to choose.
What began as a story of two brothers and has evolved into one of family and love. It’s become an acknowledgement (an appreciation, a celebration) of myself and my community the likes of which has never happened in television. Just as the show changed us, we have changed it.
So… yeah. When I say I’m upset it’s over, I’m not referring to what I know will continue. I’m mourning the fact that this is it. The story’s over.
annaxmalina
turnnoffyourmind
izzy806
2087
germansingergirl
