There was lesbian mess aplenty on the last season of Queer Ultimatum, and I became addicted to the point that I still follow several of the principals on Instagram. (Guys, Aussie and Sam are still together, I think! And Rae and Lexi both have new partners, whick rocks, because they were…ill-suited!) Season 2, though, makes the last look like a particularly polite episode of The Great British Bake Off, with sex, lies, drama, and allegations of Spotify-cheating abounding from every direction. What is Spotify-cheating, you ask? I wouldn’t want to give away too much, but just know that you should always make your Spotify playlists private, especially if you share an account with your ex and you’re holed up with your new “trial wife,” cooking truffle-infused foods and listening to alleged sex music.

As a queer person myself, I totally get the appeal of being around a bunch of other queer people—with no straights in sight—for almost two months, and I always think the cast members look like they’re having the most fun at the show’s outset, when everyone is just cruising and flirting and giggling in beachwear. One thing I simply do not understand, though, is why a couple that seems to be compatible and reasonably happy—like Season 2’s Bridget and Kyle—would sign up to go on a show that’s basically the reality equivalent of U-Hauling with someone you met at Woods Wednesdays for three weeks straight, only to realize that you don’t actually have as much in common as you thought you did over margaritas and subtle vape drags.

Of course, there are some Queer Ultimatum couples who genuinely seemed to grow into their relationship on the show, like Britney and A.J., and some who probably never should have dated in the first place (Ashley and Marita seem like a classic case of “We’re from an area with a reasonably small queer community and everyone threw us together because we’re both gay”), but as someone in what I’d like to think is a healthy and non-codependent queer relationship, those “this and never going on Queer Ultimatum” memes are very real.

Obviously, nobody’s going to force me and my partner to appear on a Netflix reality show, but even the thought of watching the love of my life literally hand-select someone new from a small cluster of queers to play house with for the next three weeks sends a frisson of fear down my spine. Does this mean I’m not as emotionally evolved as the people on Queer Ultimatum, or just that Queer Ultimatum is the most chaotic queer reality show there has ever been? Either way, someone greenlight Season 3, stat, and maybe throw in a masc-for-masc couple while you’re at it!