Well, fam, here we are for the last time.

This is the final review of the final episode of Supernatural, and my feels are very turbulent and conflicted about the ending. I couldn’t sleep after watching the finale, so most of this was written on my phone in the middle of the night because apparently, even after all these years, Supernatural still has the power to keep me up all night. 

Spoilers ahead, my friends. Big, giant, spoilers. 

Hello, boys, for the almost-last time.

After fifteen seasons on the air, we have finally reached the end of Supernatural. Allow me to grow nostalgic for a moment: the show began in 2005. I had just finished high school, and had moved into the dormitory at my university in an effort to demonstrate to my parents that I was a fully grown adult. It is not lost on me that Supernatural  has been around for my entire adult life, and saying goodbye is more difficult than I had anticipated because it’s always been a constant for me. Breakup? Watch the Winchesters. Bad day at work? Watch the Winchesters. Feeling introverted and don’t want to go out? Watch the Winchesters.

Luckily we will have 327 episodes to watch over and over for the rest of our lives, so I guess the Winchesters will always be a constant.

So without further ado, let’s talk about the end of Supernatural. 

Hello, friends. It’s been a while since I wrote about Supernatural…and I’m going to be honest…I was behind even before the pandemic put all our lives (and the show’s final season) on hold. I’m sure I’m not alone in stockpiling episodes of a favorite show so you have something to look forward to; in this godforsaken year (pun fully intended), we need all the good things we can get.

First things first, I need to get this out of my system:

At first I was like:

And then I was like:

And now, I’m like:

And if you don’t know what I’m talking about…SPOILERS AHEAD. Ye be warned.