I knew love. A deep, profound, boundless love that lifted me, filled me with its light, kept me warm when I was cold, shared wine with me, snuggled with me on the couch, made me laugh, made me feel. And when it ended, I was not sad for the loss, I was happy for having known “Breaking Bad.”
I never thought I would open my heart up to another show the way I did to my perfect love, but “Fargo” is dancing around me, laughing, embracing me as we both roll down the grassy hillside. My guard is slowly falling away (my heart has been broken so many times before.) It’s the first time since “Breaking Bad” that I’ve opened myself up to the possibility of love.