why the season finale of revenge left me wishing i hadn't just watched it (no spoils, i promise)

darn that emily throne.  she's an oxy-moronic icon from one of my most addicting tv shows out there, and is both a saint and sinner in the same moves. and darn those darn writers of that darn show.  i might enlist on a breathy and obsessive rant for the next paragraph or so, but i assure you that i will absolutely keep my tongue when it comes to the secrets and plot within season two. but i mean, really, how can i not constantly think about why just happened after a gripping two-part season finale that made me cry for all sad, happy, confused, and angry reasons alike. is it not enough to now wish that it was only fall when i could continue with the next season that i can only imagine will be full of so much more drama and plot twist that the last. i mean, my little tiny heart that is affected by stress so easily, can only take so much people. so please excuse me for the next few days while i flinch at the faintest drop of book and stare into the abyss while i continue to replay the mind boggling events of what just happened. and then watch it all again.