Does anyone else get disappointed when the heroine in a story or movie doesn’t end up with the villain?
I have receipts. Christine should have picked the Phantom. Not Raoul. Raoul. A man who is, charitably, a sentient pair of riding boots. In Found on Netflix, Gabriella should have absolutely ended up with Hugh “Sir.” I’ll die on this hill. Belle and Gaston — fine, no, but I see what the writers were going for and I respect it. The witch in any given fairy tale should have prevailed against the dimpled fourth son of a sheep farmer. Half of the Brontë canon is about this exact question and I think Emily was onto something.
Hear me out. Because I’ve thought about this. Probably more than is recommended.
Look at what these men bring to the table.
They are devoted. Genuinely devoted. They love these women through stab wounds, through rejection, through actual escape attempts. Find me a Tinder guy who answers a text within the same calendar week, and then come back and tell me devotion is overrated.
They are consistent. You always know where you stand. He will, in fact, be in the basement. He will, in fact, be waiting. You will never have to wonder if he’s thinking about you. He is thinking about you with a level of focus most therapists would describe as “concerning.”
They are completely authentic. No code-switching. No carefully curated personality for the first three dates. He’s a murderer. He told you. The transparency is, frankly, refreshing.
They are ambitious. They are driven. They have goals. The goals are bad, but my god, the work ethic.
They give gifts. Unprompted. Outside of holidays. Jewelry, flowers, the severed head of a man who looked at you wrong at the market — it’s the thought that counts and the thought is constant.
They are natural planners. Elaborate ones. Often with diagrams. Try getting your last boyfriend to make a plan for Saturday afternoon and then tell me planning isn’t sexy.
They are thoughtful. They remember things. Anniversaries of things you forgot you mentioned. The shoes you wore once. Your mother’s birthday. Your mother’s whereabouts. Everything.
And — let’s just say it — they are often quite good looking. Brooding. Tortured. A little gaunt. Lives near a candle. The aesthetic is doing a lot.
I look at that list and I am, frankly, struggling to find downsides.
Oh sure. Sure, sure, sure. There are some minor flaws. A little light kidnapping. Some stalking. Occasional criminal behavior. A complete and total disregard for the law, the social contract, and the personhood of other human beings. Maybe a basement situation that wouldn’t pass a city inspection.
But have you SEEN the good column? It has like nine bullet points. The bad column has three. And one of them is “kidnapping,” which is honestly so much more attention than I usually get on a Tuesday.
The math is mathing, is all I’m saying.
Christine, sweetheart. You had options. And you picked Raoul.
We’re never going to agree on this.
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