Lost, We Have to Break Up.

You had me at hello, Lost.

From the pilot episode where you crashed your plane, I was on board. When you told me the island was a different type of island, I listened. When you told me the island could cure people, I didn't question you. When you told me polar bears were in the jungle, I nodded in recognition. When you had me believe there were Others, I feared for you. When you kidnapped innocent children, I thought for sure you'd tell me why.

You, Lost, have taken a turn. Time has alluded me in this place. Perhaps this is your fickle nature, Lost. For you certainly have duped me before. But no, Lost, no. This isn't a game anymore. Lives are at stake. I have questions that need answering. I was enticed with your teases, but now I realize you've masked reality with several shirtless men who know how to shoot weapons. I thought I could be okay with this.

We basked in the innocence of your camp fires, in your love triangles, in your father-son moments. We cheered you on when you took charge, when you fought for yourselves, when you faced your worldly problems. It wasn't that long ago, Lost, when I accepted the presence of monsters, of an unseen evil at work.

These days I'm faced with detonating Hydrogen Bombs, time travel and the hope that one day I'd understand how an entire land mass could shift with the turn of a wheel. You had me believe that you might explain something as unexplainable as the black smoke. It turns out what I thought was important is small compared to the task that lay before me.

That is why, Lost, I have to walk away. I know what you're thinking, "But, Katie, we're a season away." Lost, I'll watch your last season, but I won't be happy about it because you've had me believe that you're not going to give me answers. That one day, not too far from now, you'll end the entire series by telling me it was all a dream. That by some sheer twist of time and irony, it turns out that Vincent the Dog is actually the evil ruler of the island and somehow controls the fate of the planet on a whim.

We had some good times and you've thrown me a few curve balls. But for now, I'm going to treat you like the show you ought to be... Nothing more than whimsy of science fiction. I shall not hold my breath for you or cheer you on. You have to win me back, Lost. And flowers just aren't going to do it.