Dear Netflix (A Dear John Letter)

Dear Netflix,
I think we should see other people. I mean, don’t get me wrong, we used to be tight, marathoning Dr. Who while happily stitching on a new pair of wings; re-watching Lost Girl for the millionth time because I was drunk and needed an esteem boost from an empowered, ass-kicking succubus; discovering new films just on accident that made me think, or laugh, or cry. But I think we should see other people.

I kind of miss the relationship I had with books. When I was homeless and the tent had no electronics, I would read books from the library by the stack full; I’d average a new one a day, and plundered my way through favorite authors and new discoveries.

I miss my relationship with audiobooks and podcasts. I would sit for hours in my comfy chair knitting while listening to disembodied voices read classics or discuss topics I was interested in, keeping me company very much in the same way our grandparents would sit with their radios.

And quite frankly Netflix, you’ll never compete with the relationship I have with music. With a good mix and good speakers (or headphones), I can do anything – dance, walk, craft, write, meditate – for hours on end without a care in the world.

And so, I think it’s time to talk; I think we need to reevaluate this relationship. You’re great, don’t ever doubt that, but it’s me, I need more. Think of this not as breaking up, but breaking open. We can still get together now and then for movie night, but it’s time for us to see other people.



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