My sweetie and I binged our way through Breaking Bad. The series was over before we even started, and we chewed through that mother in record time. During intermissions for work and sleep we talked about what was going on, and looked forward to more time with the series.
And then it ended. A you-saw-it-coming-from-a-mile-away-but-were-still-blown-away ending. An ending so complete and poetic that I have to sit back and admire it. I don’t hope for more tack-on seasons or spinoffs (though the prequel Better Call Saul, which we started watching before we dove into Breaking Bad, is mighty fine).
But Breaking Bad is over. It finished when it was right to finish, and if maybe some characters found redemption is was not the sort of redemption that carries them forward.
I miss the show. But I don’t want more.