Despite all of the anticipation and backlash about the LOST finale, I woke up feeling just fine about it. There were a lot of questions that weren’t answered that drove me crazy last night. There were dropped threads, missed connections, and continuity problems out the wazoo. The ending was unsatisfying and more than a little too convenient.
But maybe in the end that’s what it was all about? That the best we can hope for is peace and happiness, that our lives mattered, and that we will be reunited with those that we loved and lost? And the worst we can imagine is the absence of those things, isolation, fearful monsters, and a constant battle against real and imaginary adversaries?
I don’t know that the ending could’ve been any better or worse than it actually was. And maybe that makes us all suckers for wanting to believe?
What I’m mostly thinking about right now, though, is our shared desire to make sense of things by telling stories. And I kind of love that this will be LOST’s legacy for me.