On January 5, 2012, with just six episodes left for One Life to Live on ABC, I had my first truly unhealthy soap fan moment.

Perhaps it was because even after months of knowing One Life to Live was cancelled by the network, it hadn’t hit me on any emotional level other than anger. I was angry from the start not only that my favorite television show was being cancelled, but also on a deeper level that television — an iconic staple for bringing the performing arts to the masses — no longer held drama and the performing arts in enough esteem to continue airing scripted television. From the moment I found out that All My Children and One Life to Live were being axed, I went on the journey of activism with other soap opera viewers, employees, and arts supporters, who were determined to not only save the shows, but to bring to light the terrible injustice being done to hundreds of workers and to our beautiful, scripted, dramatic showcases.

The shortened soap week started on January 3 due to the New Year’s holiday. The plot centered around a prison break, and fans held mixed opinions on the storyline. Some were honored that the production had brought long-lost characters back for one last appearance — previously tucked away from our screens to a place where many former characters languish. Needless to say, former lovers returned, hostages were taken, threats made. Other long-time fans of the show were not so excited by this device, understanding that the final air date was looming and wanting only happiness for their favorite characters.

I keep a big secret that I’m about to reveal now: I have only been watching One Life to Live since 2009. I can’t be classified as one of those uneducated new viewers though, because ever since I began watching, I have learned everything I can about the history of the iconic show and the characters that have crossed the screen. I have read about past characters, talked to long-time viewers to get a handle on the circumstances surrounding the characters, and I’ve gone back and watched hours and hours of past shows from a time before I even thought I would come to love this soap opera.

I watched, riveted, during the second to last week of One Life to Live. I feel bad just typing that finality. Viewers have believed for months that they would be able to preserve and, yes, save this show, and I have been no exception.

In the very last moments of the episode on Thursday, January 5, Allison Perkins was one of many escaped convicts who had managed to get her hands on a gun. It was one of the many guns being carelessly used in the scenes that closed the episode that day. She pointed it at Clint and Viki as other characters in other scenes struggled for supremacy and scuffled over control. Clint and Viki did not move. They just stood there as she pointed the gun at them, clasped hands and whispered to each other, “I love you,” before a shot rang out.

Maybe it was because of the finality of that scene, or the impending end of the program as a whole, or maybe because of spoilers that had reported that Clint and Viki were going to end up in heaven together. Maybe it was all those predictions that the world will end this year, or the fact that All My Children ended with a similar scene. Whatever it was, I began to bawl.

Oh, I had cried over the show before — like when Jessica realized that Hope was not Chloe, that Chloe was dead and she would have to return Hope to Starr. Or when Dorian finally admitted to herself that Mel was not going to come home after his plane crashed. Or maybe even a few times when Tea thought she was dying from cancer and her family had to say goodbye. Oh, please. Yes, I have cried watching One Life to Live before.

But this time was completely irrational. I wan’t crying a simple, “Oh, that was so sad,” cry. I wasn’t thinking, “That just broke my heart!” Indeed, it was heartbreaking but my thoughts were more along the lines of, “Why did they have to do that!? That was completely unreasonable and unnecessary!”

But it wasn’t. It was good entertainment. It was a beautiful moment between characters that had found their way back to each other after years of conflicts, misunderstandings, and near misses. It was a moment of peace in the chaos and it really, really, classified as a truly character-driven and perfect scene between two people — two parents — who had shared their lives and were expecting it to end in one quick moment.

Had it been an actual opera and not a “soap opera,” the hero and heroine of the play would have just stepped to the center of the stage and cut through the discord to express a tragic and melodic aria that would rip everyone’s hearts out before the curtain dropped.

The last time I had felt that level of emotional irrationality over my favorite television show was back when I was a young teenager. I had been watching my favorite show at that time for at least a year or two and wanted my favorite female character to end up in a relationship with one of the other main characters on the show. When he decided to take his interests another direction for one episode, in my volatile teenage-hormone-induced feeling of betrayal, I flipped out and threw a couple of things, including my shoe. I knew it was just a television show, and I knew he was just a character that had been written that way, and I knew that there had not been any solid indication that he and my favorite character would be together any time in the near future. I just loved the idea of it that much. So I got angry, and then I got over it, and I kept watching for the years that the show continued to air. (Those two characters never got together in the end, and I was okay with that.)

Funny too, and surprising to me, that I had never had that kind of moment over my admitted favorite character on One Life to Live. Before I reveal that, I need to clarify that I love all the characters on the show — well, there have been one or two exceptions since 2009 … mostly one exception — but I watch the show on many levels and I love the characters, the writing, and the acting. Often the characters I start out not liking end up being some of my favorites. Aubrey, for example, was originally just another new character that I felt was drawing attention away from some of my favorites, but now I really love her and hope things work out for her. Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I adore Dorian. Still, despite all the tears shed over the show and all the times Dorian ripped my heart out with her unabashed emotions, and despite the injustice done to that character and how I really feel her core and essence was misunderstood by the end of her time on the show … I never had a completely irrational outpouring.

I have been on a journey with Viki and Clint. I was there when Clint worked for her at the Banner and I knew that even though Clint and Viki got divorced, they were always close and got along better than most ex-spouses. I was there when Dorian was convinced that Viki was trying to steal Mel from her, and when Dorian tried to win the attentions of whoever Viki was interested in. I was there when Dorian seduced and ultimately fell in love with Joey and Clint and Viki were none-to-happy about it. I was there when Viki still loved Ben, even though he was in a coma. I was there when Clint returned from London, decided to stay for his family, and then ended up with Dorian instead of Viki. I was there when Dorian developed a crush on Charlie, even though he belonged with Viki. I was there when Dorian found out David was indeed a Buchanan and used the knowledge to take over B.E. again. I was there when Charlie accidentally shot Jessica, when Clint had a heart attack, and when Clint took the wrap for a crime Matthew had committed. I was there when Viki’s personalities fragmented yet again. I watched Charlie leave and Clint move in at Llanfair. I watched as Viki allowed herself to fall back in love with Clint only to see him with Kim. I loved Viki with her past loves, and I loved Clint with both Dorian and with Kim. Heck, I even loved watching Clint and Nora battle Dorian, even though Nora belonged with Bo.

Clint and Viki were together again, staring down the barrel of a pistol, and they simply clasped hands and said, “I love you.”

That is exactly what I would do if there was no way to sprout wings and body armor and fly over a couch to stop a bullet. Maybe that’s why I burst into tears. Maybe the moment hit too close to home.

Six episodes to go. I love you, One Life to Live.