To say I was disappointed in the series finale of How I Met Your Mother is a gross understatement. I am disconcertingly, irretrievably, unfathomably disappointed in the way you chose to end what used to be my absolute favorite television series of all time, to the point where it makes me physically ill to think about. For nine seasons you taught us to believe in magic, and in destiny, and happy endings, and in the fates always working out in the end, no matter how bumpy the road to get there was. This ending absolutely destroyed everything that was magical about this series. A few things you destroyed:
Barney Stinson. From the moment we saw Barney asking about his tie at the end of season 6, and realized that he was getting married, we have seen the character of Barney Stinson evolve, albiet slowly from a manipulative womanizer to a gentlemen worthy of marrying Robin Sherbatsky. When he finally vowed to always tell Robin the truth the moment before he married her, I was proud of him and the full circle that he had done. And then, in one episode, you destroyed three seasons of character development for Barney and made him devolve into an unfunny, immature scumbag of a guy who knocked somebody up and who wasn’t even happy about having a child until the moment he held her in his arms. What a SAD, MISERABLE ending for one of the most diverse characters in the show.
Robin Sherbatsky. Ruined her character as well. So she becomes famous, ditches all of her friends and her husband for her career, and lives an anti-social life where she eventually ends up all alone in her old apartment with more dogs?
I could have lived with the mother dying. I could have lived with this. I could have been happy. I could have made it work.
But you decided to take it one step further.
You decided to ruin Ted Mosby. You decided to turn Ted Mosby from a hopeless romantic telling an amazingly beautiful story of how he met the mother of his children into some elaborate ploy to ask his kids’ permission to pursue Robin again. Robin. THE SAME WOMAN WHO MARRIED HIS BEST FRIEND AND WHO TOLD TED SHE DID NOT LOVE HIM AND THAT THEY WOULD NEVER WORK OUT EVER BECAUSE THEY WERE TOO FUNDAMENTALLY DIFFERENT PEOPLE. By the way, way to break the bro code, Ted. You shattered Ted’s character by convincing us he finally moved on from Robin. But no. Still pining after the same woman after 20+ years. Makes me physically ill.
But the worst thing….
You ruined The Mother and her story. You turned her death into a minor part, another hurdle Ted had to jump to finally reach Robin. We did not see ANY mourning from Ted for the death of his wife. We did not see their final moments together. We did not see the funeral. We did not hear any sadness from her kids. All we heard was “Oh by the way, the mother got sick and died, let’s talk about Robin instead”. Makes me absolutely sick to my stomach.
You ruined the magic. And for that, I will forever be disappointed.
In my mind, the series ended with Barney and Robin’s wedding. A snippet of Ted seeing the mother playing bass on stage. Finally meeting her at the train station. Flash forwards of their lives together. Ted proposes. They have an amazing life and two children together. She slowly gets sick and eventually passes away. And in order to honor her memory, he sits his kids down and tells them the long, amazing story of how he met the love of his life.
And that’s the true story of how Ted met the mother, the love of his life. At least, that’s the story I will be remembering.
They never tell you that eventually, your heart wears thin. The chrome turns out to be only paint, that bubbles and cracks with rust. Standing open like a sore, revealing aluminum underneath, realizing the beginning of bitterness, and the deepest corner of the room. Every heartbreak was the invitation of disease to this idea of what constitutes as true while we’re talking about love. Every time “We need to talk” comes up. Every time your head tells your heart “I told you so”. Every time the flood gates open and you’re looking at your new lover with the same eyes that gazed so madly in love with someone else. You step over the precipice, but reserve that small piece of your heart that remembers something else. Curiosity towards what if fills you with shame, all the while they are carefully knotting each stitch, sending every good morning text, carrying your heavy heart. It gets lighter, with every dinner made for you, all your nights spent feeling love through the smallest cracks in your smile. When embraced, your pieces tightly fit together, because you couldn’t bare to be any further apart. They settle loosely, as old houses with drafts do, sharing the cold with this lover on December nights that were the warmest you could imagine. And you find yourself looking at this person with all their faults, feeling sane. Feeling like you couldn’t possibly see yourself without them.
“Only be with someone who you think you can learn from. They should be smarter than you in certain ways so that you can continue to grow and be interested. Above all, you should undoubtedly be proud that you are with them.”—something my 10th grade history teacher told me about how he knew he wanted to marry his wife. (via mareinfinitum)