I think a lot about what makes a “perfect” ending. Not necessarily a happy ending, but one that feels honest. For me, the ending of Fleabag is a masterpiece.
The first time I watched it, I just sat there staring at my screen feeling emotionally destroyed in the best way possible. It wasn’t wrapped up neatly with a bow. Nobody suddenly became perfect. Nobody magically healed overnight. It just… ended like real life does. Messy, complicated, bittersweet.
That’s what makes it so powerful.
The final scene feels like letting go of something you know you can’t keep, even if you love it deeply. And I think we’ve all had moments like that — friendships, relationships, versions of ourselves. Things ending even when there’s still love there.
Phoebe Waller-Bridge created something that feels painfully human. The ending hurts because it’s true. And honestly? Those are always the stories that stay with us the longest.