We've had the tearful announcement, we've had all the lasts; the last Comic-con, the last photo shoot, the last hellatus; we've had countless BTS videos (which I'm still not sure I've caught up with yet), we've had numerous emotional goodbyes, we've had countless tributes and paeans of praise to J2M and the exceptional cast and crew, we've had the announcements of what comes next for J2, we've had 19 episodes of season 15, and now it all ends here...
19th of November (20th for me) is the proverbial 'it'.
I suppose we should be thankful to Covid for giving us an extra six months of live Supernatural in our lives, or maybe we should be cursing it for prolonging the agony.
But all things considered, I'm trying to analyse how I feel about it all now that it's finally upon us. Am I ok?
I'm not sure that I am.
I keep thinking that having that extra six months' grace thanks to the pandemic has given us extra time to come to terms with it, and that having the added bonus of knowing we'll still see Jared and Jensen on our screens in their new individual projects eases the pain, but ultimately 'Supernatural ending' is still hard to process. No more Dean, No more Sam, No more Castiel, No more Baby. It doesn't seem to compute.
I've been fairly tearful watching the last couple of episodes, and I just can't even imagine what sort of a mess I'm going to be next Friday. I've taken the day off work because I don't think I'm going to be any use to man nor beast.
I'm saying it here and now. On Friday I will be available online or on the phone for virtual hugs, mutual commiserating or just general reminiscences.
Chuck knows, I think we're going to need our fandom buddies over the next few weeks.