I have a dysfunctional relationship with the TV series Lost.

It’s like that girl you were crazy about back in high school, the one who had the wicked smile and knew exactly what effect those skin-tight designer jeans had on the young male of the species. The one who grooved on the power trip of getting you all hot and bothered under the bleachers and then saying “no” at the last second, not because she was afraid of the realness of it all or anything like that, but just because there was some nasty little part of her that liked screwing with your head. You remember her, right? And how you eventually got very bored and frustrated with her silly games, so you dropped her and found yourself a nice girl?

Well, that’s about where I am with Lost. I’ve gotten tired of the tease, you see, and I’m impatient for this series to start explaining what the hell is going on. The producers keep assuring the fans that they know what they’re doing, that it really is all leading up to something and this isn’t just a repeat of The X Files‘s endless “mythology,” but I’m still not sure I believe them, in spite of improvements toward the end of last season and in last night’s Season 4 opener.

Frustration aside, though, I just keep coming back to Lost (just as I kept going back to old what’s-her-name and her painted-on denim). Why do I torture myself this way? Why does my resolve crumble and I come walking back with my chin down and my hopes high that maybe this time I’ll get what I no longer merely want but really damn need?

It’s the characters. I love the people who inhabit this show. They’re all real and complex and sympathetic — well, all except for Ben, that infuriatingly smug little weasel who, if he were a real person, would probably cause me to rethink my anti-waterboarding ethic.

Of all those real, complex, and sympathetic characters, though, I think the one I love the most is Hurley.

Hurley, who started off as little more than a venerable movie cliche, the funny and lovable fat guy. Well, he is funny and lovable, and yes, he is really a big guy, but there’s a lot more to him than all that. His sharp wit covers a tendency toward depression and a history of mental illness; his general friendliness compensates for a crushing insecurity that stems from both his size and also something in his past that hasn’t been revealed yet. He’s something of a sad character, actually, and that always seems to appeal to me. But the thing I really love about Hurley is his heart. He is quite possibly the most heroic character on the show. He knows he’s not very capable because of his weight, but he wants so much to help, to be part of the action, to save and protect the people he cares about. It damn near broke my heart in last season’s climax when he was told by both Charlie and Sawyer that he was too fat to help them. Because you know if this guy had Sawyer’s body, he’d be a frickin’ superhero. But instead, he’s just a guy like somebody we might actually know, a guy a lot of people would overlook because all they see when they look at him is a size XXXL t-shirt and a really awful hair cut.

Anyway, last night’s season opener was a Hurley-centric episode, and featured a fine performance from Jorge Garcia, who brings the big guy to life. I teared up with him when he learned of Charlie’s sacrifice and when he made his choice to break with Jack and follow Locke, and I cheered how he volunteered to break the news of Charlie’s death to Claire. (Maybe they’re going to pair up Claire and Hurley now? He was the one that helped her with the baby when Charlie went off to meet his destiny.)

The character is simply a neat guy, a nice guy, the one member of this cast I’d most want to hang out with, and the one I most want to see get out of the series happy and in one piece.

That said, however, the damn show still didn’t give me much satisfaction last night. We spent a lot of time wandering the jungle, preparing for the arrival of the maybe-or-maybe-not rescuers from the mysterious ship, and flashing forward to the new post-island timeframe, where Hurley is back in the mental hospital and talking to his dead friend Charlie. But the big event, the actual first appearance of one of the rescuers, didn’t happen until right in the very last minute of the episode and then…

Then the little tart said “no” and left me panting until next week. ARRRRGGG!

(Note to J.J. Abrams: I would recommend taking a fresh approach for your reboot of Star Trek. Two hours of set-up followed by five minutes of action and an ambiguous and abrupt ending that feeds into the inevitable sequel will not win over the hearts and minds of old-school Trekkies. Consider yourself warned.)