I am addicted to a show about meth—is there a counseling group for that? But really: it’s a problem. It may sound counterintuitive, but as I watched pasty, middle-aged Walter White stumble through the desert in his underwear at the beginning of the first episode I knew that Breaking Bad was going to become my new favorite TV drama. To my concurrent excitement and dismay, the final season is almost here; soon I’ll find myself in a state of withdrawal, scrounging the internet for lingering Bad memes and scanning the channels for another worthy distraction. But for now I’m biding my time, re-watching one episode of Season 5 a night in anticipation of seeing the shit hit the fan as the final season unfolds.

What I like most about Breaking Bad is its ability to convey moral complexity. This is a show that isn’t afraid to challenge the way we think about the world, blurring the distinctions between “good” and “evil” as our central protagonist gradually morphs into one hell of an antagonist. And yet our loyalties do not switch quite as seamlessly. Badness has a seductive quality, and no matter how appalled we are by Walt’s actions as the series progresses, we cannot help but root for him just a teeny, tiny bit.  We keep watching because it’s a rush to see someone break all the rules and get away with it. It’s a rush to watch the shy, humble schoolteacher who can’t hold a gun without cringing become a black-market badass.

I have no doubt that in its final season, Breaking Bad will take the classic good versus evil dichotomy and artfully melt it into an intriguing hue of gray. We will be forced to ask ourselves, as viewers, where our own loyalties lie. Because while we might think we want to see Walt slammed against the hood of a cop car and handcuffed, we all know that deep down there’s a guilty little part of ourselves that wants to see him ride off into the sunset wearing a smug sliver of a grin, whispering for the last time “I won.”