I think this is a love letter. No, wait. Maybe it’s a breakup letter. Actually I don’t know. In fact, the uncertainty I’m experiencing kind of proves the point I’m getting to: I’m in a codependent relationship with you, and I need to get out of it for my own mental and physical health.
Everyday I wake up and look out the window. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping. It’s a beautiful day (okay, maybe not everyday, we do live in the Pacific Northwest, but you get my point). I’m ready to face the day. I lace up my shoes to go for a run. I almost make it out the door, and I catch a glimpse of you sleeping. I wake you up, just to check out one Friends episode I haven’t seen in at least two whole months. Then I’ll go on a run.
The episode ends. “Stay with me and cuddle on the couch,” you say in your syrupy tone that makes me want to stare into your eyes all day. Though it really sounds more like Joey Tribianni saying “How you doin’?”. Regardless, I get the message. You want me and I want you. “Fine, I’ll go for a run later, but you have to make me go no matter what”, I tell you.
A few hours later, in our post-Friends bliss, I decide to finally go. “But, we still have some new episodes of iZombie to finish. Please just stay and watch some with me. Just a few. I swear after three episodes, I’ll ask ‘Are you still watching?’ And you’ll be forced to go. “I can’t say no to you,” I say. And then we sink deeper into the couch for another hour.
Three episodes later, you do, indeed, ask, “Are you still watching?” But you give me the choice between yes or no, knowing I can’t resist. It’s just so much easier to click yes and stay longer with you and so I do. I remind you that you promised to force me to run later. Giving me the option of saying “yes” doesn’t count as force.
Then, 33 minutes later, you start buffering. And buffering. Still buffering. OH MY GOD HOW ARE YOU STILL BUFFERING IT’S BEEN 15 FREAKING MINUTES??? And then it dawns on me. This is your way of forcing me to run. Okay, I’m gonna do it! For a moment I kid myself that maybe you really do care about me. Maybe we can make this work out. MAYBE WE CAN SPEND THE REST OF OUR LIVES TOGETHER! And, just as I’m going out the door, I hear the tantalizing noise of voices on the TV. And I have no choice but to stay and hang with you.
This is everyday, Netflix. Everyday. And I just can’t take it anymore. I need to move on. I need to cut you out of my life. It’s not you, it’s me (I guess it was a breakup letter after all. I really wasn’t sure what direction this was going in). Maybe we could just be friends. Besides, I’m also seeing Amazon Prime and Hulu on the side, so I wasn’t being completely faithful to you anyway. I know it hurts, but it’s the truth. Maybe we can just be friends. I need to focus on myself and my career right now. If you love something, let it go. I’m sorry if I missed any breakup clichés, but know I mean every word of all of them.
So this is it Netflix. I’ll miss you and I’ll always love you, but this is best for both of us in the long run. I’ll remember you fondly and I hope someday you forgive me.
PS. Can we please have a date on Friday? I already miss you. I’ll get us pizza and beer. Actually never mind. I take it back. I take it all back. Let’s be t