Watching The Last of Us Season 2 in Wisconsin Feels a Little Too Real

The Last of Us Season 2 isn’t just another show—it’s a slow, heavy ache that knows exactly where to land.

Keywords: The Last of Us Season 2, HBO drama 2025, watching in Wisconsin, Ellie and Abby journey

It’s Snowing in the Show—and Outside My Window Too

I don’t know if it’s the snow or the silence or just the way things hit different this time of year—but The Last of Us Season 2? Yeah… it got under my skin. I was maybe five minutes into the premiere, still wearing my boots, hadn’t even taken off my jacket yet, and something about it just—hit.

It’s hard to explain unless you’re from around here. Wisconsin kind of teaches you to carry things quietly. We don’t always say it out loud, but we feel things deeply. And this season? It feels like it was made for us.

Abby Walks In—and Your Heart Starts to Shift

I’ll be honest. I didn’t know what to do with Abby at first. She’s tough. Like… visibly tough. Not just the kind that can take a hit—but the kind that’s clearly been hit too many times already and got used to hiding it. And the thing is, you want to hate her. But then you don’t. And then you do again.

It’s complicated. Just like real people.

Kaitlyn Dever brings her in so raw that I found myself pausing mid-episode just to breathe. She’s the kind of character that makes you think about grudges you’ve held too long. People you never got to forgive.

Ellie Feels Like a Kid You Know

And Ellie—she’s not the same girl from Season 1. Bella Ramsey plays her like she’s still holding that version of herself, but barely. There’s a moment in Episode 2—won’t spoil it—but it reminded me of a friend’s daughter back in Oshkosh. Same look in her eyes. Like she’s trying to stay strong, but you know it’s costing her something every time.

She’s not just surviving anymore. She’s unraveling. And we’ve all seen someone try to keep it together when everything inside is falling apart. That hits hard out here.

We Feel It Differently in Wisconsin

Maybe it’s the long drives. Or the way snow quiets everything. Or how we still leave casseroles on porches when someone’s going through something. But out here, we watch differently. We don’t fast-forward through the quiet scenes. We sit with them.

Season 2 gives us:

• 9 episodes that don’t care if you’re ready
• 3 characters you won’t stop thinking about
• 1 moment that might knock the wind out of you
• And too many silences that say more than words ever could

It’s Like Driving Through Back Roads at Dusk

There’s something about the way the show’s filmed. It’s not flashy. It’s kind of gray, kind of beautiful. Looks like the stretch of Highway 33 between Baraboo and Portage when the sun’s just low enough to make you squint.

Even when they’re far from here, the feeling stays close. That slow, cold ache. That “keep going because there’s nothing else to do” energy. It’s Midwest to the bone.

The Pain Isn’t Just Fiction

What gets me isn’t the infected. It’s not the action. It’s the truth of it all. The way people mess up, then try to fix it and end up making it worse. The guilt that doesn’t go away. The love that lingers, even when it hurts.

We know those feelings. We’ve lived them. Maybe not in an apocalypse—but in our own quiet disasters. Family stuff. Loss. The weight of old decisions.

So, Should You Watch It?

If you’re in Wisconsin, sitting with a blanket wrapped around your legs and the furnace rattling in the background, yeah. You should watch it. But don’t just “have it on.” Really watch it. Let it get to you. Cry if you need to. We’re allowed to do that here. Even if we pretend we’re not.

The Last of Us Season 2 isn’t here to entertain you. It’s here to remind you of everything you’ve been carrying—and maybe, gently, to ask if you’re ready to set some of it down.

And I don’t know. Maybe that’s the most Wisconsin thing I’ve felt in a long time.