I want you to know I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you more than any other show. I have watched others, but none compare to you. It’s been several months but it feels like years have passed since I’ve last seen you. I miss your humor, your intensity, that mischievous sparkle in your eye. I miss the awkward social situations and late night excursions. Your careful planning and patient waiting, the meticulous ritual you follow that makes the murders you execute feel more like artistic expressions than vigilante justice. The attention to detail and appreciation of the darkest corners of our fragile human psyches. Your brooding, your thoughtful inner monologue, your calm, quiet mannerisms. I’ve missed everything about you.
You blew my mind last season, stunned me with the graceful, natural evolution of your 2 main characters, Dexter and Deb, the interesting new plot developments and the introduction and development of new characters, some who’ve completed their story arcs, others I know will reappear someday. Most TV shows become stale by their 5th season (or long before). But not you, Dex. No, instead you’ve proven yourself older, wiser and more attuned to the wishes of your viewers.
I waited so patiently, waited for months for you to return in all your dark, sinister glory. And, this past Sunday evening, as promised, you did not disappoint. You kicked off the episode (and the season) with the killing of a couple paramedics who let their patients die in order to harvest their organs for profit – you always know how to get me hooked right from the start. Watching you awkwardly dance to MC Hammer (innocently asking, How does Hammer time differ from regular time?) and catch up with old high school acquaintances, all the while patiently waiting for the opportunity to get a DNA sample from your next victim, the star-football-player-turned-wife-killer, made me giggle with schoolgirl pleasure. Colin Hanks and Edward James Olmos (and – tell me it’s true – Mos Def!!) have joined this season’s roster and have already declared themselves to the Miami PD, in a brutal and intriguing way, I might add. Which reminds me, don’t think I missed that excited expression in your eyes when you discovered baby snakes in that man’s disemboweled corpse. I haven’t seen you have fun like that in so long! I don’t care that more than a year has magically passed and the entirety of the Batista-LaHeurta union right along with it. Or that there is no explanation for the absence of Astor and Cody. Or your sudden desire to explore religion. I don’t even care that Quinn is now so thin, he appears to have aged 10 years instead of one. I’m just so damn happy you’re back!
And back in pre-marriage Dexter form, I might add. Not that I didn’t like Rita, but being a husband and father and blood-splatter analyst AND serial killer was just too much for you to keep up with! But not now. You’ve got Batista’s little sister for your nanny, Astor & Cody inexplicably out of the picture, and Quinn (at least for the time being) off your back. Nothing can stop you. Let your freak flag fly! Or, more accurately, let your dark passenger drive, Dexter. I’m strapped in, ready for the ride.