I get attached to my TV shows.
Like you don’t understand. I’m not over exaggerating. The characters become my best friends. I obsess over them. I quote them. I make references to them in my everyday conversations. I think they’re real. They make me feel better in the same ways that my real, human friends do. If you insult them in any way, shape, or form, I take personal offensive. It’s all boarder line mentally insane, but what can I say? I’m a diehard fan, through and through. The things I love, I love a lot.
One of my best friends is crazy about the show LOST, and she tried to convince me to watch it for at least a year and a half before the fateful day that I was sitting in my Creative Writing class and my teacher showed us a whole episode of LOST, from the second season, as an example for some project that we were doing. In that moment, I was hooked. As an LOST fan knows, seeing that one episode out of place, I was totally, completely, 100% lost (pun intended) and I had no idea what was going on, but I was in love. Especially with Sawyer. When I told my best friend that, she flipped and as soon as school was over for the year, we watched episodes in 3 hour chucks for a few days.
The catch was that a week after school was out, I left to spend the summer in Panama. There was no LOST watching for me. But I was convinced that my plane was going to crash on all my flights.
When I got home, cross country and college applications, along with school, took over all my free time. It wasn’t until mid December that I mentioned wanting to watch all 6 seasons of LOST again, this time really meaning it.
The difference was that this time when I spoke those words, my foreign exchange student, Iida, expressed the same interest. Soon after, every night after dinner and homework, you would see me and Iida sitting knee to knee in front of the computer watching LOST. There were screams and tears and laughs. A roller coaster of emotion.
From the first episode, I was in love with all of the characters. I would have to pause the show at least five times an episode to react about something, screaming in excitement or dread. Sometimes, more often than not, I had to cover my eyes in fear. Once I was scared so bad, I screamed bloody murder and jumped at least two feet in the air. My heart raced for minutes afterwards. I gave Iida bruises from hitting her so hard when it all became too much for me to handle. We fought over what we thought was going to happen next, over who was better, over who we loved more, over if we shipped Kate and Jack or Kate and Sawyer. We were both in love with Hurley. We both hated Michael. There was never a middle ground. LOST causes your feelings to be on one side or the other.
We got busy come spring, and for the longest time we were stuck in season 3. And then in season 4. We watched faster, longer, more, more, more. As Iida’s time left here grew shorter, so did our time to finish the 6 seasons.
We didn’t do it.
When Iida left late June, I returned home with an empty heart, to an empty bedroom and an island I had a ticket to, but a trip I didn’t want to take alone. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make myself do it either. It seemed to be too cruel after everything else my heart had just been through. If I didn’t want to watch alone, I wasn’t going to make myself.
So for a long week, the first week, LOST sat on my bedroom floor, alone, abandoned. LOST was a thing I shared with Iida. Even when we watched with my other two friends, she was still there. She understood when I said, “Remember how I said that Jack was going…?”. I wouldn’t even finish my sentences and she would know. She understood all my “I told you so!”s. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t watch LOST without her. It was like cutting into my heart with the sharpest knife. It hurt too much. It dug to deep.
After a week, I started season 5, mostly because I couldn’t stand not knowing anymore. It was hard, watching that first episode without her. I kept reaching over to smack her knee in excitement. I would turn my head, opening my mouth to say something and then my heart would fall when all I saw was air. I felt confused and out of place watching without her. It didn’t seem right. It still doesn’t.
A month later, and here I am. I have just the series finale to watch. 2 hours are left in it all. My friend wrote a beautiful post on her blog once about how LOST has affected her. I’ll be honest, that’s one of the reasons I’m writing this. I can’t believe it’s almost over. It’s been such a constant for me over the past 6 months, and now my LOST virginity is almost gone. My last first viewing of every episode has come and gone. It’ll never be unknown again.
LOST hasn’t changed me in a major, noticeable way. It hasn’t played as big a role in my life as other series I’ve fallen in love with. I’ll be honest about that. But it has made me feel better more time than I can count. It has made me feel less alone, especially during this last month, my first month without Iida.
That’s what LOST did. That’s what I owe LOST the most for: for bringing me closer to Iida. A shared obsession joins people at the hip and Iida and I will always have LOST. That’s what LOST is to me: Iida. We have so many jokes about it, so many everything about it. Whenever I think of it, I will think of her. As I miss the characters, I miss her.
The other reason, I’m writing this is for nostalgic sake. I just can’t believe it’s almost over. I’m so tired of endings. They all seem to be coming right now, raining down on top of me, over and over again. When will they end? When will this all stop?
I wish nothing had to end. I want to hear Sawyer’s one liners for the rest of my life. I want Hurley to make me lunch in Dharmaville while we both wear ugly grey jumpsuits. I want to go hike countless miles in the jungle with all of my 815ers forever. I want to go back and I’m not even gone yet.
Thanks boar expert, for everything.
See you in another life, brother.