Dear Walter White,
I’m writing this now because I am not sure if you are going to make it through tonight, and I want to make sure you get this before the bell tolls.
I want to say thank you.
When I started this adventure with you and Jesse years ago I did not know what I was getting into. I saw your “breaking bad” as a fun adventure to watch – a challenge that you accepted because Jesse told you you couldn’t. You had cancer, no fucks left to give, and knew that your genius had been wasted as a teacher for too many years. You could totally make some meth.
During those first years things were great. You made me laugh on a regular basis, with bathtub gags and this amazing long take with Badger. Jesse taught me that the word “Bitch” is a versatile part of any man’s vernacular. And my God were you shot beautifully by those cameras.
Since then, things have gotten pretty crazy for you. A man who once was troubled by keeping a captive in his basement, you are now seemingly on a Neo-Nazi hunting rampage. You went from cowering to Mike and Gus to killing them both (I still haven’t forgiven you for Mike). We have come a long way. But regardless of how tonight goes between you and the Fourth Reich, the ride has been absolutely amazing. You taught me that every action has a reaction. That every decision has a consequence. That in life there are no Half-Measures.
I am going to miss you, although less so than I thought. I know that may sound cruel, but this past season has been hard to watch. There has been so much pain for people that just didn’t deserve it. People that would have simply continued to live their lives the way they were living them had your cancer-inspired meth startup not caused the Butterfly Effect that it did. Uncle Hank would still be a jovial cop that home brewed beer. Marie would still be wearing purple. Flynn would still be enjoying his breakfast.
In the past weeks things have become so dark. Hank is dead. Marie is wearing black. And Flynn, well, Flynn probably still likes breakfast. But pancakes aside, a happy ending seems unlikely for any of these characters that I have grown to know and love over our time together. And I really wanted them to be happy. Even you Walter, I wanted you to be happy. I wish you had taken the buyout. But I know that with your history and your goals and your being in the “empire business” that was never actually an option.
I guess I will know your fate soon enough. Maybe you have already figured it out – you are a smart man. But I am preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. I don’t think much could happen that would affect me as traumatically as Andrea’s execution last week, but I am not going to put it past you. I know that you will end this thing on your terms, and I know that may entail some painful moments.
And while I understand that you probably don’t have time for any deviations from the assault-rifle-related experiment that you have already planned, I do have two requests.
First and most importantly, please try and save Jesse. I know you left on bad terms, and I know you probably think he’s dead right now, but there is a chance that you will run into him tonight and I’m asking that you just let bygones be bygones, remember the good times you had together, and get him away from monsters like Todd.
You seriously fucked that kid over. And he really looked up to you. He killed Gale for you, something you never helped him emotionally deal with. That haunted him to a point of insanity for a while and still lingers with him to this day. You often referred to Jesse as “family” as if he was your son, but you can’t pick and choose when your family is family. Jesse was your son when you could control him, when you could tell him what to do and he would do it for you out of respect or fear or his general good-guy affability. But as soon as Jesse questioned you or challenged you (as son’s are wont to do) you rejected him completely. You were never fully honest with him.
I know that you are dealing with a lot and probably facing your imminent death. I know that you are trying to ensure that your wife does not spend the remainder of her life in jail and your children get some of the inheritance that you threw your life away to build for them. But Jesse would never let you rot in a dungeon. Jesse never would have sold you out to Neo-Nazis in the first place. This is something that you and that big gun can fix. I hope you do.
My second request is more self-serving. Could you give us one more montage Walter? I know that might sound strange, as if I am asking for a cliche, but your montages have always been anything but.
They can be anxious:
They can be beautiful:
They can be hilarious:
They can be horrifying:
But they always make me smile.
Good luck tonight Walter. I hope you kill Uncle Jack. I hope you don’t get your family into any more trouble than you already have. I hope you save Jesse. I hope you have a montage.
Thank you for the good times. It has been hard to watch at points, but absolutely enthralling the whole way through.
It was a high that I fear I will never quite get again; some special brand of meth that only a master chemist could have cooked.