That was my initial reaction upon the conclusion of my favourite television series.
After growing up with Ted, Robin, Barney, Lilly, Marshall and a host of equally superb characters (I'm talking about you, Ranjit), we were left in disbelief and shock as the storyline reverted from fairytale ending to Bourne Supremacy-like deception as Robin Scherbatsky, our favourite scotch-drinking, cigar-smoking Canadian journalist (not unlike your correspondent) ultimately leaves with Ted Moseby's heart.
Five seconds prior, Ted and Tracy met for the first time in an adorable exchange that invoked symbols of seasons past. Before our next breath, many of us watched in slight horror as we found out that Tracy died, and Robin was going to receive the penultimate blue French horn.
48 hours later, I still have no idea how I feel about the ending.
I do know that in no way to I envy Carter Bays and Craig Thomas (aside from their awesome bank account balances after such a legendary sitcom)--there is no way they could have left everyone satisfied.
Forget emotional attachment to the characters--we were these characters. Every one of us. We've all been at the bar, hopeful that the next girl we meet eyes with will be The One. We've all debated the three day rule. We've all had those incredible (often alcohol-induced) nights that left us wondering how we survived. We all know a Marshall-Lilly couple. We've all caved in to the peer pressure of a Barney. We've all sipped Glenn Fiddich with a Robin. And we are all, in some shape or form, a Ted Moseby.
That's what made the finale so difficult--there was truly no easy way to say goodbye. It was us, for crying out loud!
The series truly chronicled how crazy and unpredictable life can be. Careers, layoffs, a pretty girl walking through the sports stadium…it really is impossible to say how things will turn out when so much of it is out of our control.
We met these characters nine years ago, in their mid-twenties. They were at the start of their professional lives, fresh out of university but not quite ready to be "real adults." As situations occurred in their lives, whether it was breakups or job opportunities or other things, the characters reacted and changed and grew. And we the viewer got to see the unfiltered, real version of that.
Credit to Bays and Thomas. Never once did I feel that the series was too much a fairy-tale. They really did tailor it to real life and the reality that it is damn hard sometimes.
The only part that I was truly disappointed with was the conclusion of Barney's character.
Of all the people in the series, Barney was my absolute favourite and the character I most resemble. Suit Up is a lifestyle choice that I embrace and endorse wholeheartedly. I think it's awesome to be your best self all the time.
"Our ancestors died for the pursuit of happiness, not the sit-around-and-wait of happiness," and, "That's why I hung out with your Uncle Barney, kids. I never got where I thought I wanted to go, but I always got a great story out of it," stand as my two favourite lines from any television series.
After seeing the transformations brought on by Nora and Robin, we are left with the same old Barney as seasons past, only old enough to father the ladies he's pursuing. Didn't Stinson deserve a better fate? Sure, he becomes a father…but in my mind, that wasn't nearly enough to make up for the divorce brought on primarily by Robin's career as a journalist.
We saw a mature, healed adult revert back to his seasons 1-7 ways within the span of a few minutes. If Robin and Ted were ultimately going to be together, shouldn't Barney have, if not fallen in love again, been shown as a character that had grown as a person even slightly over nine years? I don't think the fatherhood aspect was developed enough to make up for that.
I also think that there should have been at least a minute devoted to expanding on Tracy's death and the mourning period. Of all characters, including Ted, I found Tracy to be the most genuinely likeable. Despite being present for just a fraction of the series, most audience members would agree that they were as attached to her as any of the Starting Five. Her dying so suddenly and just seconds before the series ended was disappointing. She, similar to Barney, deserved a better fate. Just as we needed to see Ted and the kids grieve, we the audience needed to grieve too.
The optics of any sitcom finale are delicate. Bayes and Thomas wanted to make us laugh, but with such a deep plot and lovable characters, an ending of this nature was hard to do so without it becoming a mini soap opera, which is what HIMYM was at times.
The show taught us so much about romance, bromance, breakups, makeups, and the pursuit of The One. Life is beautiful sometimes, painfully challenging at others, and just plain bizarre. All we can do is hang on for this crazy rollercoaster. Living in Paris has reinforced this for me.
Like I mentioned earlier, the best part of the series was that we were watching ourselves essentially. Sometime this weekend, many of us (myself included) will grab a pint, perform word-by-word analysis on a text conversation, and have plenty a laugh, all the while be surrounded by people we love. Friends. Not unlike the five friends we had every Monday night for nine years.
À bientôt, Robin. Your journalism career is what I aspire for, as is your toughness and determination.
Au revoir, Marshall. The Green Bay Packers will always be number one in my heart, but you were the definition of a Cute Man.
Salut, Lilly. I hope my children have as kind hearted and sweet kindergarten teacher as you.
À tout à l'heure, Barney. I will always suit up and be my best self, and have you to thank for that mentality.
À la prochaine, Ted.
Over the past nine years, we got to watch five amazing life stories unfold right before our eyes. It's now time to write the hell out of ours. It'll be LEGENNNNN…
