how tv can break my heart

It's gonna get heavy... and also... sporadic spoiler alert.


Some shows just break your heart.  I don't mean they make you cry.  It's more intense than that.  It's like someone is reaching into your soul and pulling it apart piece by piece.  I know there are heartbreaking movies, but they don't get me in the same way a TV series can.  There's something about the investment put into a show.  And I'm not talking about the writers and the crew and the actors... I'm talking about the audience.  Think about it for a second.  If you decided to tune in to the pilot of The West Wing... you just began a SEVEN YEAR relationship with these people.  Seven years.  That's a long time.  Cheers was eleven.  One Tree Hill was nine.  It doesn't matter what kind of show it is or why you like it... you're voluntarily finding a way to check in with specific characters once a week for twenty-two weeks a year.  That's more commitment than some people give their friends and family.  And much longer than a lot of romantic relationships.

For me, there are a lot of shows I binge watched, so it's a different kind of relationship.  More based on lust, for lack of a better comparison.  It's like this all encompassing teenage-like passion.  You must have it, all at once.  I would shamefully stay up until 2AM letting Netflix start the next episode of Sons of Anarchy and hunker down for another 52 minutes of bliss.

This was occurring to me as I laid awake after watching the most recent Teen Wolf episode, which ripped apart my heart by the way, because I have legitimate feelings for these characters.  These writers/producers/directors/actors slowly trick you into caring and loving for all these different kinds of people without you even realizing it at first and then they tear their lives apart.  Whether they're dumped or fired or hit by a car, somehow everything gets flipped upside-down and you're helplessly watching from the sidelines.  About now is when you remind yourself that it's fiction.  None of this is actually happening and in reality, this painful moment probably involved a lot of laughs as the crew tried to keep calm.  But that doesn't make it easier really.  You know it's fake, that's a major part of the intrigue, right? When else could you live in a world with vampires or be a member of the Parks Department?  Never.  And that's why it's so important to you to hold onto this universe and these people.

I don't care if you were a Friends fan or not... you wanted Ross and Rachel to have their happy ending.  And you knew it was a sure thing, well, you were 99% sure.  95% maybe.  But in that moment when Ross is standing in his living room listening to that infamous voicemail, I was 3% sure.  And I was pissed.  It was ROSS AND RACHEL.  If they couldn't be happy, then why did I watch all their romantic turmoil for years of my life?  Guys, I needed this more than their fictional selves did.

And on The West Wing, he HAD to win that election.  I mean, how else would the show go on?  These people couldn't just lurk around outside the White House while the other guys ran the country.  There shouldn't have been a question, but I promise... you'll be on the edge of your seat.

I could go on and on with examples, but you get the idea.  I think what might get me the most, is when you know something as an audience member, that the other characters don't.  Like there's a pain you're aware of that someone is struggling with, but no one else has figured it out.  For example when you know someone is in love with someone else but that someone else has just professed their love for a third someone.  Or when someone has died and people know and the person who will be the most crushed is about to find out.

But perhaps the worst, is when you take a second to think about what is REALLY happening to these people.  Nick Miller's dad just died - last time they saw each other, they fought, as usual.  Elena Gilbert has NO family left.  And she watched each of their deaths first hand, so... there's that.  Bones and Hodgins are acutely aware of what they believe will be their last moments because they're buried underground in a car.  Ryan Atwood is watching the only girl he's ever loved die in his arms.  Veronica just watched her father's plane explode... all thanks to the guy who raped her.

The joy is there too during a wedding or a birth or a proposal or a birthday.  TV has happy times, but it's the devastating ones that you remember.  The funerals, the accidents, the arguments.

Sometimes people argue characters on TV suffer more than people in real life.  That could be true, and for most people it probably is, but I think it just hits us harder when we watch it on screen.  When it's your own pain, you can harness it and control it somehow.  Whether that's ignoring it or wallowing in it or throwing it in someone else's face.  But when you're sitting on your couch or laying in bed and watching a close up of someone else's agony... it reminds you of every shitty thing that's ever happened to you or anyone you know and that gets wrapped up with your love for the character, then it all stabs you in the gut. 

Dramatic.  I know.  But that's how it felt as I watched these poor seventeen-year-olds go still underwater, all to save the only parents they have left.  Teen melodramas get a bad rap, especially the supernatural ones, but this moment had nothing to do with teen romance or werewolf lore or high school drama... this was three young people voluntarily, and without hesitation, doing what they can to protect their parents.  Their parents.  That's something everyone in the world can understand.  They were told they could die in the process, told they would never be the same, told it might not work, but that didn't stop them from taking a deep breath and going under.

I get a lot of pleasure from watching TV, but there's a decent amount of anguish too.  Luckily, I can say it never lasts long.  A few days later, you see the actor in a magazine or a promo for next week and the world reminds you it's not real.  It never was.