Six years ago I began a relationship with a television show. Admittedly, I only started watching it because of the fabulous Dominic Monaghan (of Lord of the Rings fame). I watched the premiere with my dad, was confused like everyone else about the polar bear, believed the Smoke Monster was a dinosaur, thought that it was going to be a mini-series, and didn’t see myself watching it past the first couple of episodes. I was wrong on all accounts.
Six years later, I anxiously anticipated the finale in the Science Lecture Mathmatics Building with my other Losties. I spent close to seven long, but at the same time short, hours with the very last new episode ever. I laughed, I cried, and while the ending wasn’t what I expected, it was what I (essentially) hoped for. For six years I have gone from being a senior in high school, to a senior in college. The show made me think about everything and what it could mean, I don’t think any other show can claim that they accomplished that. But when it ended, I didn’t get the same dread that I normally feel with shows that I absolutely adore to death. Maybe it was because I didn’t have a clue how it was going to end, maybe because most of the other shows I watched to the very end were canceled so we didn’t get an actual true ending.
It’s funny, but I truly have grown up with Lost. I remember watching the first episode, for the sole reason that Dominic Monaghan was in it, and I remember thinking, what the fuck is this crack? But somewhere along the way, I got hooked – I fell in love with some of the characters, and most of all I wanted to know what the hell was going on. Every episode gave me something to think about. Really, you can’t ask for anything more from a tv show.