#sarian

I kept asking myself: Why does it hurt so much when people constantly argue about whether they’re romantic or not? It hurts because sometimes that question simply doesn’t matter.

We saw Season 4—they kissed. Ian was spiraling every single episode, slowly realizing he doesn’t just love her for her mind or what she can do. He loves her for so much more. Even when he tried to insist he didn’t want her body, he backtracked with, “I don’t know—it’s confusing.” Of course it is.

In the “Sarian” recap, Megan Ganz spoke so insightfully about fear—Ian’s fear, but also Poppy’s. Ian is terrified of letting someone become as important as his mother once was. Letting a woman hold that much space in his heart. Yet, he did already.

With Poppy, they found each other as grown-ups. And longed for eachother unknowingly as children. They recognized each other instantly. They became what neither of them had ever found before.

They are each other’s greatest fear.

And each other’s greatest blessing.

They cannot be with anyone else. They’ll never be able to—because no one else could measure up to what they are together. I believe deeply that they could be a couple. In fact, I believe that in the end, they have to be.

Because between them, there will never be “enough.” They will never be close enough. Or far enough. They will never be able to let go. They’ll spend every day fighting, yes—but they will never be able to live without each other. They feel each other’s feelings. Their biggest fear, always, will be losing the other—whether consciously or unconsciously.

We’ve seen them in relationships. We know Ian was married and had a child. But we also saw that he couldn’t give those people what they deserved. He couldn't truly love them.

If he could, he would have. But he couldn’t. He and his wife decided together that he shouldn’t be in their lives, because he wasn’t able to love them in the way he was supposed to. That’s devastating—but it’s the truth. It never changed throughout the story.

Ian has never been able to put others above himself. Never able to step past his own ego, even though everything—everything—in him should have driven him to be a better father than his own. But he just… couldn’t.

Except with Poppy.

With Poppy, he can. For her, and for her baby—this child that isn’t even biologically his—he can. He was with her through her whole pregnancy. Inseparable. (More we did not see but still)

The smile on his face when she tells him she wants the baby, even though she can’t explain why… that smile is the most real, the most genuine smile we ever see from him. Because she is happy. And when she’s happy, so is he—even if he’s miserable at the same time.

For her, he’s able to do everything better. For her, he is able to step over himself. Even if it means living in misery—he’ll do it, if it means she’s okay.

And then there’s Poppy—always battling her own fears. Fearing what Ian might do to her, think of her, when in reality, she’s doing it to herself. When he says she’ll never be successful without him, he’s just reflecting her own voice, the fear she already believes. He knows it. Wants to hurt her, because she too hurt him. Feeling subservient to him. She too is terrified of losing him. Terrified of losing the one person who truly sees her—who knows what she’s capable of.

Storm is her ideal partner. He supports her, encourages her creativity. Exept- he isn't.

But let’s look at what she creates. First, the machine—a literal manifestation of her fear. A fear of becoming cold, mechanical, always alone. A fear of staying the machine. She’s afraid to admit she’s enough as she is. But she is. She has power. She has talent. She owns that game every bit as much as Ian does.

Then comes her second project: small, fragile, beautiful—like a bubble ready to burst. When Ian admits Storm is the perfect partner for her, she knows he’s right. Storm is perfect on paper. But that’s the problem—he’s perfect in the wrong way. What she thinks she needs, what even Ian learns to believe she needs isn’t what she actually needs.

Because what she truly needs… is Ian.

And as Megan said so beautifully in the recap—they need to stop protecting themselves from each other. They need to realize: they’re not going anywhere. They love each other. They don’t need to be afraid of that. But they’ll have to keep working on it, every day, for the rest of their lives.

That’s why I think it’s unfair when people insist they can never be a romantic couple. They think romance is the stereotype. But so is "platonic love".

It’s unfair to reduce them to a stereotype. Because nothing about them is stereotypical. And it’s just as unfair to force them into the “platonic best friends” box when what they are is… unnameable. Raw. Real.

They’re not meant to be a symbol of “what friendship between men and women can be.” They are two human beings. Messy. Brilliant. Honest. As Ian says—relationships are insane. And they are two people on a floating rock orbiting a ball of fire that’s four billion years old. And they love each other. Deeply.

That kiss—it wasn’t just hormones. Ian fell in love with her this season. You can feel it in every moment he misses her, craves her, aches for her. And Poppy? Maybe she’s not good at realizing it. But something made her turn that plane around. Something made her pretend to go into labor and end up on a no-fly list probably for all her life. Something made her run back to him. Something made her kiss him. And that something is love.

Not surface-level, tidy love. No rom-com love. But the kind that ruins you—in the best way.

I’m not saying that if we’d gotten Season 5, 6, or 7, we would’ve seen an easy relationship, matching mugs, a wedding, or peaceful co-parenting. I don’t know what we would’ve seen. But I do know this: they are endgame. Always were.

From the moment they met, they were each other’s person. Their home. Eachothers storm. Their shelter. Their fear. The one person who defies explanation. The one relationship that makes no sense but every kind of sense.

Ian will be more of a father to Poppy’s baby than he ever was to his own—because it’s hers. Because she loves that child. So he does too. Like their baby, the game. And after that kiss? They won’t stop. They’ll think it’s a mistake—but they’ll keep doing it anyway. And probably more than that.

Because they’re family and MORE. Because they always were.

They’ll live their lives together, one way or another. Because no matter what the showrunners originally planned, this was always the step they were going to take. The characters made that choice. In every single episode, they proved it.

So fighting about whether that kiss was “right” misses the point. Even if the final episode had gone the other way, without a kiss—it would’ve happened. If not then, then eventually. But honestly?

It had to happen then. It was the only climax that made sense.

And look—if you need them to be friends in your head, that’s okay. And if you believe they’re lovers—because they always have been—then that’s okay too.

Because what is love, really?

Every relationship is unique. And theirs? Theirs speaks for itself. Every glance between them says more than a thousand words. The fact that she sees Sarian, his game—and it saved her? That it led her to him? That tells you everything.

The fact that he—the most self-centered man alive—puts her above himself? That says it all.

So yes, I’m heartbroken that we won’t get more seasons. But at the same time, I’m grateful it ended exactly the way it did.

It brought us full circle. From her walking into his office in Episode 1 bringing him her brain...