34th Street Magazine is part of a student-run nonprofit.

Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on our site.

Letter from the Editor

Letter from the Editor 4.10.2019

On second semester ennui and the loss of 'Crazy Ex–Girlfriend.'

CXG image
Photo: Jessi Olarsch

It’s been a long week. If you know me, you know I say that every week. But this week, I mean it. For one thing, my favorite show, Crazy Ex–Girlfriend, wrapped on Friday. And also, I’ve been trying this emotional vulnerability thing, and it’s exhausting.

Much like the protagonist of Crazy Ex–Girlfriend, Rebecca Bunch, I spend a lot of time in my own head. Rebecca manifests this through her choreography of complex musical–theater numbers in her own head. I’m not musically inclined enough to do that, so mostly, I write. This week, I’ve been writing quite a bit—vignettes, fiction, essays. But I struggled with this letter from the editor. And I’m not sure why. 

As I write it, I think I’m getting there. I’ve been spending so much time with my thoughts recently that I’m reluctant to put them on paper. I’m a little sad about my friends graduating soon, a little tired of my work this semester, and a little sick of hearing myself talk in the first person. The weather is warmer, everyone feels restless, and I'm feeling ready for summer. And for some reason, there were pigs on Locust this week. And even still, I feel this weird funk. And many of my friends feel it too. Spring fever. Things are changing, growing. 

And I can't stop thinking about how much I'm going to miss Crazy Ex–Girlfriend. It represented a flawed, weird, comic heroine who was unabashedly herself. Its songs soundtracked some of my happiest moments. And it was a damn delightful show that revealed in the weird minutiae of everyday life, mental illness, and recovery. Since I’m doing this new emotional vulnerability thing, I guess I’ll admit that the finale made me cry. It felt like a loss of something. 

The show ended—spoilers ahead—on Rebecca starting a song she wrote. It was hopeful, poignant, and ultimately unresolved, which is comforting, because that tells me it's not really over.

So, to paraphrase her, here is a letter I wrote. I’m working on how to end it. 


Most Read