Throughout my entire life, I’ve never really committed to watching a TV series loyally from start to finish. I mean, sure, I’d enjoyed the occasional "Modern Family" and "The Middle"because it’s vital for me to receive my weekly dosage of laughter. But recreationally, I’d never considered a television series on Netflix to be something worth occupying my time, opting instead for favorite rented movies or books.

That changed a few weeks ago. I had picked my poison: "Friends," the classic 90s embodiment of companionship and love and laughter and epic genius. One of my closest friends from high school had been introduced to the series through some of her friends from college, and judging by how she ripped through three seasons easily, I had to see what it was all about.

As I began watching Season One (yeah, I just finished it last night; that’s as far as I got), one of the first things I noticed was how much of a feel-good show "Friends" really is. Watching it with my sister, I was amazed at how it managed to make me laugh every 10 seconds or so. The punchlines were swift and high quality while also maintaining that stupid type of funny that I and so many others love. Episode after episode, I soon grew to love the characters as if I actually knew them, and I wished that they were my friends in real life. I saw myself in Rachel and fell for Ross’s awkward, smart charm, and appreciated Phoebe’s whimsical eccentricity. They soon became more than characters; they became people who embodied a life filled with fun and lessons to be learned.

Even though the show started in 1994, countless college students and young adults today still watch it and relate to it. To the point where my friend and I actually have created a list of which characters our friends would be if we all lived in this magical televised life. To the point where I sat down for dinner with my uncle who was in disbelief that I was watching the same show he loved decades ago. To the point where college dorm room doors have that cute little peephole frame on the outside. The companionship, trust, levels of comfort, and unity among the group of friends on the show is timeless. It’s something people admire and strive for: the ability to handle breakups with a laugh, the magic of a date, the warmth of a night in watching a movie, that perfect (or not-so-perfect) first sip of coffee at Central Perk.

In contrast to movies, TV shows like "Friends" are great because they’re so short. In the span of 25 minutes, you can learn about Ross’s conflicting feelings for his ex-now-lesbian-wife and Rachel, all while trying to take care of his pet monkey Marcel. Or how Phoebe plays guitar and attracts the attention of a super adorable nerdy scientist guy who sadly has to leave her on New Year’s for a new research expedition (my favorite episode). Like a book, within every short episode is a story that provides a little glimpse into these characters’ lives. And it provides the viewer with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment for making it through a season.

I’m really glad that I finally decided to commit to a season; now I know why people really love Netflix so much. And I’m especially glad that I chose "Friends," a show that made me forget about any stress or problems that accompany real life, if only for a half-hour at a time. Now, if only they'd have a reunion...