Lost has been perhaps the only material constant that I’ve had in my adult life. As the final season begins, I look back not only on the show and its multiple arcs (and realities, apparently), but also upon where I’ve gone through this show. I’m not going to comment on these characters or not, as this is a little more personal than that, and those are beyond my control. Indeed, the visceral thrill of watching this show wouldn’t be the same if I had any sort of say over the characters (though I would never have introduced Nikki and Paolo); it would not be as high of a quality if I, a nonprofessional writer at this moment, chose to direct the flow of a multi-million dollar franchise to its rightful conclusion. Rather, I would prefer to reflect on the events in my life and how they have coincided with this show.
