“Hey, It’s Che Diaz.” These are words we may never hear again, at least on And Just like That… Yesterday, Variety reported that Sara Ramirez, who played the nonbinary comedian and love interest of Cynthia Nixon’s Miranda Hobbes for two unforgettable seasons, will not be returning for the third iteration of the Sex and the City revival series. (Max has declined to comment.) And just like that, television’s most divisive, meme-worthy podcast-cohost-slash-comedian-slash-veterinarian-office-worker has left the building. Sayonara, Che. 

Ramirez’s exit from the series has been speculated about for months, particularly after they alleged that actors were being “blacklisted” for posting anything in support of Palestinians in Gaza. (Ramirez is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns). “While they give awards away, casting directors and agents are making blacklists of actors and workers who post anything in support of Palestinians in Gaza to ensure they will not work again,” wrote Ramirez in an Instagram post, though they later added, “This post had and has nothing to do with my past work contracts.” (Nixon has also been outspoken regarding her support for a ceasefire, and appears to be returning to the series.) In their post, Ramirez went on to not so subtly criticize Che themself. “It’s wild how performative so many in Hollywood are,” Ramirez said. “Even more performative than the last character I played”—adding a painted-nail emoji at the end.

From a story perspective, it was probably time for Diaz to pack up their Hudson Yards apartment and get a move on. By the end of season two, the romance between Che and Miranda had more than run its course, crashing and burning in spectacular fashion. After moving to Los Angeles and back again, Che and Miranda called it quits; Che then ripped Miranda to shreds at one of their famed comedy concerts. While the former lovers were able to be cordial and even share a sweet moment at Carrie’s Last Supper, it was clear that there was no future for the two. To underline things, Diaz even had a new love interest, Toby, emerge at the end of the season. 

Some fans will surely celebrate Che’s exit. They were a divisive and often confounding figure—a comedian who never said anything funny, a stoner who lived in a fancy building and made Cameos at night from bed while Miranda was sleeping. (Couldn’t they have at least gone into the other room?) Che was the type of person who’d show up unannounced and have sex with Miranda in the kitchen at three in the afternoon while she’s supposed to be taking care of a post-op Carrie, forcing Miss Bradshaw to piss into a Snapple bottle. (To be fair, that one was kind of on Miranda.) All of this led to vehement and passionate critiques of the character—something Ramirez was painfully aware of. Che was an acquired taste, to be sure.

But whatever taste Che left in your mouth, there’s no denying they were an integral thread in the batty fabric of And Just Like That… The show’s very premise launches Sex and the City fans into entirely uncharted territory. Samantha (Kim Cattrall) has straight-up disappeared; Charlotte (Kristin Davis) is struggling with the pressures of Upper East Side motherhood; Miranda, the once high-powered lawyer, is an alcoholic going through an identity crisis; Carrie becomes a widow who’s richer than God. Each lady has been given a new friend—Nya (Karen Pittman), Seema (Sarita Choudhury), and Lisa Todd Wexley (Nicole Ari Parker)—to fill the hole left by Samantha and also address DEI concerns. Into that spectacular mess entered Che Diaz, who may just be the perfect distillation of the bizarro fever dream that is the Sex and the City revival series. There’s a reason that, love ’em or hate ’em, the internet simply couldn’t get enough of Che. 

For every cringe thing they did (remember “I’ve done a ton of weed”?), Che also had a few genuinely compelling moments. Their love affair with Miranda helped her go on an important and necessary journey of self-discovery and get out of a dying marriage. (Sorry, Steve.)  They helped launch the ladies out of the 1990s and into the 2020s with their unabashed queerness and gender identity. (The queer subplots in the first iteration of Sex and the City weren’t great.) And the metacommentary surrounding the test audience’s reaction to their pilot, Che Pasa, while on the nose, was legitimately compelling in its analysis of the sometimes impossible expectations queer people have for mainstream representation within our own community. A Che-free third season of And Just Like That… may very well be like Carrie wearing an understated, not-completely ridiculous outfit to an event—less chaotic, sure, but spiritually incorrect.

Some of Sex and the City’s most memorable scenes were spurred by ridiculous and absurd love interests—the 30-year-old who lived with his parents, the man who cursed when he came, the guy with the funkiest tasting spunk. Che Diaz entered this pantheon, and succeeded at both shocking and amusing us. Say what you will about the comedian, but no one was doing it like them. With Che Diaz, we briefly touched the sublime. And yes, the sublime includes the phrase “comedy concert.”