To Will & Grace, from My Womb

I’ve got to be quick as I’m sneakily writing this whilst my man goes out to buy some wine before we settle in for a movie night together. The second he shut that front door, I was here on wordpress, because I just HAD to say something.

I hate endings.

This evening I watched the finale of Will and Grace, after months of watching the entire collection. It was beautifully written, it was typical W&G comedy, it tied the loose strings, it brought smiles to my face…it broke my heart as the end credits rolled across the screen.

imagesThe conclusion of a stranger would be that dear god, she is that person: the one who gets overly attached to something to the point of obsession, when the steely glint of madness begins to shine in their eyes. And well, yes I suppose I am that person.

But I’m also the person who relishes a smile while it lasts. I revel in life and all it’s roller coaster moments. I can’t get enough of a thing that makes me happy, and I don’t think that’s a thing that could ever be criticised.

Sitting here, staring at a blank screen, knowing there is not another season of my W&G to keep me going in those dull twenty minutes over breakfast tomorrow, makes me glum. When a thing is that good, I hate to see that it can just be cut off, ended, that someone out there can simply decide that we’ve had enough of a good thing.

(Getting the subtle tone of over-attachment?)

No, but in all seriousness, it was an excellent show. It was the kind of show that stays with you. It leaves you with that lingering feeling that I wish to reproduce one day in my writing.

So now I shall leave you. With my overly attached, mildly obsessive, incredibly hormonal reflection on a tv show forever immortalised for my not-quite-as-oestrogen-filled-body to read over next week and regret.

And a clip from the Finale.

(Gotta go. The man is back with alcohol and a Russel Crowe movie.)

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