As much as it is rough to imagine, I am actually glad that Breaking Bad is ending in this season. You know how a relationship can be glorious yet highly combustible? That’s how I feel about my attraction.
The show bothers me. It bothers me like a lover from whom you cannot get away. You stick around because you had good days and still love the regular ones. On bad days, you really believe you can pick up the mess and move on. It bothered me when Jesse still called him Mr White when he thought he had poisoned Brock. It was a moment of utter distrust and disgust and yet, not a whole lot had changed between them. Awakening.
Perhaps this is it. Our notion of a relationship is defined by the past, by the slate of memory when the bond was first created. It is this illusion that determines the lifespan, sustains it, and pieces things back. And yes, I do realise that it is just a television show. It bothers me, that’s all.
So. If it doesn’t end soon, the intensity of (whatever this is) will probably give me a heart attack.