And then you went and pooped all over my dream – my stupid, naïve dream that you were one of the good ones who’d gone through hell and come out the other side.
But the revelation that you’re making house with Peroxide Ken, I mean Sean, all the while blowing up Dean’s phone with some very M-rated sexts, has destroyed me.
The final reunion episode was a tangle of revelations, from the full vision from that wankerish boys’ night to the stomach-churning, blow-by-blow visuals of Troy and Carly’s creepy coupling.
But it was by far the unravelling of the Tracey and Dean text message saga in the final minutes that blew everything out of the water.
Suddenly Sean’s weirdly aggressive behaviour the night before at the dinner party makes sense!
That poor bastard thinks Tracey is uncomfortable with Dean’s messages. He’s been led to believe that she’s an unwilling participant in a relationship that’s inappropriate and inconsiderate.
But she’s completely into it.
As Dean revealed, they’re having some very “risqué” chats on the humble SMS – and not just about whether rapping as a late 30s white man is awkward.
She’s sending him pictures of herself in her underwear!
Look, as a gay man, that’s fairly tame content for us in most circumstances, but for straight people… that’s not cool. That’s like our version of a dick pic. Keep that to yourself if you’re spoken for!
Tracey has obviously downplayed it to her new squeeze and misled him about what’s really going on.
And as anyone who’s ever been cheated on will know, the culprit only lies if they know full well that the behaviour is wrong. Otherwise, why not own it?
Tracey is doing the exact same thing to Sean that Dean did to her. It’s the sort of conduct that broke her heart, put enormous pressure on her TV marriage and ultimately saw it end in tears.
Should the same happen to her new relationship, old pouty lips has no one to blame but herself.
Scandal, surprise and gasp-worthy behaviour seemed a fitting way to end this malfunctioning rollercoaster ride of a season.
I for one am glad producers aren’t trying very hard to sell this as a thoughtful social experiment designed to help people find love, but rather embracing it for what it is – one big moral-lacking mess of human misery.
God, I love it. Bring on the next romantic car crash!