For two years and two months, give or take a few days, this show has been my constant companion. Oh, I've thrown it in storage more times than I can count, put it on extended hiatus behind school and 20 regular-season shows, taken weeks to work my way through single episodes - but it has always been there. Waiting. Like a promise, like a good friend.
I'm not sure I can properly convey to you what that's like. It's one thing when you follow a series on the air for years and it ends, but a series on the air goes in and out. This was perpetual and purely on my terms. I was never caught up, I passed up every last opportunity to fandom-squee in real time, but at least I knew that whenever I wanted to come back, there was more of this waiting. Now there's nothing. Just a bleak, slightly hollow feeling, like I've lost something and don't know why.
I wonder if it's a little bit like how other people said they felt about the last Harry Potter book, when I was merely impatient for closure and the subsequent relief of knowing how it all played out.
Sure, it's still there. All the old days, they're still fresh and bright and vibrant as ever, and now I can indulge in rewatches to my heart's content. But there will never be anything new again (do not even speak of that bastardization that is season 5). It waits in the archives, not the wings. And I don't really know how to deal with shutting down two of my favorite series in a single month.
We've come such a long way, show, haven't we? It began as a sidebar conversation in the comments on stunt_muppet 's journal; who suspected it would eventually cement itself as a centerpiece of my fandom life? I was still 21 - in a few days I'll turn 24, wrap your mind around that. It was The Year of Education, the middle of Season Strikegate, and I was a wide-eyed innocent with a hatred of sci-fi, but a vulnerable spot of which Rose Tyler took immediate advantage, and that was that. My very first post, such sweet memories...
I hate letting things go. Hate it. That's why I am turning this goodbye into such a production. But sometimes it's a forgone conclusion, and there's nothing left but the hard truth of acceptance. Time to retire for the evening, I think...Voice, prepare the Corner of Weeping. *makes a calm, dignified exit*
(*COMMENCE EPIC WEEPING*)