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Y'all, I'm breaking up with Gilmore Girls. Just typing this makes me feel a tad heretical, as if I need to brace myself for the fiery onslaught of fandom fury.
I have loved Gilmore Girls every bit as much as most fans since the Fall of 2008, several months after my dad passed away (yes, I came to the show a year after it last aired, but I've always been a latecomer to trends). That Fall, my mom and I would sit on the sofa with our snacks, cuddled under blankets, and lose ourselves for an hour (or several) in the witty banter, quirky characters, and less depressing drama of Lorelai and Rory. Gilmore Girls offered us a colorful, comforting break from the reality of our grief and tethered us closer together as mother and daughter.
Reason - Gilmore - Girls - Craving - Nostalgia
For this reason, Gilmore Girls has always been an emotional craving for nostalgia that must be satisfied in the Fall. Over the years, though, rewatching the show became less an annual tradition and more a comfortable fallback whenever I was lonely or emotionally exhausted and needed to see familiar faces, hear familiar dialogue, in the background of an empty house. The characters filled me with their presence, made me feel less alone, and reminded me of what had been a warm light in the dark season of grief.
Episodes - Heart - Point - Sick - Something
I know so many episodes by heart, and still, I never imagined I'd reach a point where I was sick of them. But something changed, irrevocably, this past Fall while I was binge-watching the seasons for the umpteenth time. It was similar, I suppose, to what a lover may feel when the rose-colored glasses finally come off and you realize, in a stupor, "Damn, this person actually annoys the **** out of me."
I began nitpicking Lorelai to death; I...
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