It all started with the third season of Mad Men, if I'm going to be honest about it.

It may come as no surprise to you that I have a visceral reaction to just about everything.

I get very invested. My heart can be broken in the span of two popcorn- and soda-filled hours. I don't watch scary movies because I hate the heart-pounding anxiety they provoke.

Turns out that not everyone has physical reactions to things they watch. Huh.

So anyway, I can't really blame the Drapers. Because they were just the trigger, in the same way that you might hear about friends who have been married forever having problems or an affair and that causes you to examine your own relationship critically.

Recognizing, of course, that they're not our friends. They would suck as friends.

And, um, that they're make-believe. Because it's television.

Although if we were friends, I would love to borrow some of Betty's clothing. Her make-believe clothing, of course.

So.

So our non-friends Don and Betty went off to Rome and had this fabulous weekend together and it was all romantic and flirty and perfect and lovely. It made me so hopeful for them. And then they came back and he gave her a charm for her bracelet.

And she was all, "Great. Now I've got a memory of one trip to Rome and here we are stuck in the same old and it sucks and life is just life and whatever."

I'm paraphrasing, obviously.

But Nick turned and looked at me.

"What?"

"It's uncanny."

I knew, I knew what he meant.

"What? We haven't been to Rome together. In fact, who knows if I'll ever make it back there?"

"Exactly."

And then last Saturday night we watched the penultimate episode, and when it ended, I wanted to watch the last one. Because, you know, it was the weekend, and it was only 10:30. We should live it up.

And Nick said, "It's 10:30."

"It's the weekend!"

"OK. We can stay up. If you'll get up with Jordan tomorrow morning, we can watch another. If we go to bed now, I'll get up with him."

I had to give it some serious thought. Because 5:00 am arrives fast. And it sucks.

"Fine. Fine. Have it your way. We'll go to bed."

"OK."

"And now we'll never know what happens."

I don't just say these things for dramatic effect. In the moment, I really feel them. I will die never having returned to Rome and now we're never going to know how the season ends.

And it's always going to be like this forever and ever.

"Right, Lisa. Until tomorrow night. When we watch it and find out what happens."

"Whatever. We never get to have fun. We haven't had fun since our honeymoon..."

And you know where it went from there.

Thanks, Drapers.