The clock read 5:55 p.m. as I sat on my couch, checking my phone every 5 seconds. The TV was already on, but the Windex and Toyota ads, which seemed to drag on and on, were unbearable to watch, blurring together the overly happy housewives cleaning bathrooms and the sleek red and blue cars speeding by.
I checked again. This time the clock read 5:58 p.m., only two more minutes, two more minutes until I could be out of the misery of commercials, two more minutes until I could be put into a whole different kind of misery, just two more minutes. I wasn’t sure if I was mentally prepared to handle the emotional rollercoaster I was about to embark on.
It was the long anticipated “Glee” episode — “The Quarterback,” a tribute to Cory Monteith, who starred as Finn Hudson and had passed away three months ago after consuming a toxic mixture of alcohol and cocaine.
I had been watching “Glee” since its premiere five seasons ago, but after my favorite characters graduated (with Rachel and Kurt moving to New York and Finn leaving for the army), the show added a bunch of new characters such as Jake Puckerman and Marley Rose. I had been losing interest because I felt no real connection to the new characters. However, I decided to make an exception for this episode because it was honoring one of my favorite characters.
I still remember when I found out about Cory’s death. I was in Taiwan, and my friend messaged me on Facebook saying, “OMG CORY MONTEITH IS DEAD!!!!! [sad face emoticon]” My immediate response was, “LOL yeah right.” He seemed like such a genuine guy, and he hid his drug addiction well. I was in disbelief.
I refused to believe that the tragedy was true until I stalked multiple Cory-dedicated blogs on Tumblr while simultaneously comforting myself with Asian ice cream. “HE’S DEAD,” I sobbed.
Cory had always been one of my celebrity crushes. He was tall, handsome and charming. His smile could brighten anyone’s day and when he sang, his voice melted hearts. On top of that, he dressed well, too.
As I turned on my TV, I tightly clutched a box of tissues in my lap and repeatedly told myself, “I’m not going to cry.”
As New Directions, the Glee club at McKinley High, appeared on my screen singing the “Rent” Broadway classic “Seasons of Love” at Finn’s funeral, I gulped. When Finn’s mom broke down as she sorted his things, my eyes watered. When Finn’s best friend Puck broke down crying to their old football coach Coach Beiste, a tear rolled down my cheek.
And when Rachel Berry, played by Lea Michele, sang her emotional solo, “Make You Feel My Love,” my heart shattered. I sympathized for Lea, Cory’s on-screen and off-screen girlfriend.
It wasn’t until the last few minutes of the episode, when Mr. Schuester, the Glee club director, cried into Finn’s letterman jacket, when I finally let the tears fall uncontrollably. I had managed to stay so strong before that, but there I was, sitting in front of my TV sobbing into my tissue.
I know Finn was just a TV character. I know Cory never knew me, and never even knew of me or thousands of fans like me. But none of that matters. Through the numerous hours of sitting in front of the TV, Cory Monteith, or Finn Hudson, had become real to me, and my grief was genuine. We’ll miss you, Cory.