A Love Letter to Netflix
I would say it’s been a while, but we were together an hour ago when I should have been writing an essay. This is what I need to talk to you about.
I think we need to take some time apart.
Over summer, it seemed too good to be true. It was a perfect romance; all onesie days and staying up all night. Hours together. Days even? Maybe I’m exaggerating.
We just got each other, you know? We had the same taste, we still do. If I wanted to binge watch Desperate Housewives for a week and barely surface from my room, so did you. If I’d come back from a night out and wanted to watch a quick comedy until I fell asleep, you were there with the Pepsi and popcorn – Well, at least it felt like you were.
I think some higher power had intended for us to find each other. You’re the Immaculate Conception to my Mary, the Carrot to my Cake or the Wait to my Rose.
I really thought I’d found everything I ever needed, and all for a simple monthly payment of seven British Pounds?
Emphasis on the I’d. I had.
It’s different now. I mean, I’m in University, you’re still- You’re wherever you’ve always been. I’m trying to move on, you know? I’m trying to be better.
Summer was great, don’t get me wrong, it’s just- Well, you’re always around.
Take before as an example, I needed to be writing an essay and you’re there shoving Nurse Jackie down my throat like nobody’s business.
No, before you say “Oh you didn’t seem to mind when you watched 5 episodes all in a row,” – I did. I’ve just realised trying to reason with you just doesn’t work; it’s just easier to give in.
Anyway, I thought I should probably at least try and let you know why I need to take some time, but know that you’ll always be special to me. You’r- Woah. You just uploaded the second Hobbit film…
You temptress. Maybe just half an hour, you know, for old time’s sake?…