It’s been two years since Matthew Perry died, and the strangest part is how present Chandler still feels. People still quote him daily. Couples still joke about being “so Monica.” Teenagers who weren’t even alive when the finale aired are discovering the show for the first time, as if it just dropped last week. In a way, Friends hasn’t aged. We have.
When Perry died, it felt like losing the funniest guy in our living room. Chandler Bing was the voice millions of us grew up with. The one with the awkward timing, the deflection jokes, the softness he tried so hard to hide. Perry always said he didn’t want to be remembered only as Chandler. But it turns out the character helped people going through breakups, anxiety, loneliness, and everything in between. It wasn’t “just a role.” It was comfort.
And the numbers prove it. Friends is still one of the most-watched shows on streaming. Every platform that gets it sees a spike. There are TikTok accounts with millions of followers dedicated to rewatches and trivia. There’s the unending merch - shirts, mugs, Lego sets, and apparently adult meals in fast food chains on another continent. You try telling Hollywood that sitcoms don’t last. Friends is practically immortal at this point.
But it’s the emotional side that hits harder. On social media, you’ll still see clips of Perry behind the scenes or interviews where he talks openly about sobriety and wanting to help others. That part hurts in the quiet way, because it’s clear he wanted to be remembered for the good he tried to do. And he is. Fans still donate to addiction charities in his name. People still quote his line from the reunion: “The best thing about us was that we really loved each other.”
That love is why the show still works. It wasn’t the apartments or the dating drama. It was watching six people who actually enjoyed being together. You can feel that chemistry through the screen. That’s why new generations keep discovering it, and why Friends doesn’t seem to fade like other ’90s shows. It doesn’t feel old. It feels familiar.
So here I am, a grown adult, eating a themed meal that I absolutely did not need, but kind of wanted anyway. It’s silly, it’s pure nostalgia, and yet it made me smile. Because even two years after losing Matthew Perry, the show he helped build still gives people something warm. Something comforting. Something that feels like sitting on the orange couch, hearing that theme song, and knowing that for 22 minutes, everything will be okay.
We don’t move on from Friends. We just find new ways it shows up in our lives.
Including in the form of a burger, I didn’t even finish.