I don’t know how to take this.
I don’t see why he moves me.
He’s a man. He’s just a man.
And I’ve had so many men before,
In very many ways,
He’s just one more. – Tim Rice, “I Don’t Know How To Love Him”
Deep down, I always knew this day was coming, but I simply didn’t want to believe it; like any other woman, I desperately clung to the belief that I was somehow different, that I was the one you would never leave. Or failing that, at least that it wouldn’t hurt so much when you eventually said goodbye.
When we met, I was so sure of my self-control, so confident of my resistance to male sweet-talk. I thought I had heard it all, learned how to deflect every line, every strategy, every silver-tongued attempt to circumvent my barriers to get some special deal. But you outmanoeuvered me at every turn. I guess it isn’t surprising, considering that you had already racked up a long tally of broken hearts before I was even born, but I didn’t know that then; I couldn’t imagine how completely outclassed I was until it was far too late.
But the bait was so tempting, the deal so apparently straightforward: “Come travel with me,” you said; “I’ll pay you all you ask and more, and you’ll see and do things few other women have ever seen and done.” Coming from anyone else that would’ve been an obvious lure, but you managed to make it sound so convincing – especially considering what I had already learned about you in our first chance encounter. I’m not saying it was a lie; you were as good as your word. You’ve showered me with money and gifts, so generously that if I invest wisely I’ll never have to work again. And if anyone else has ever done some of the things we’ve done together, I’ve never heard of it. I’ve seen wonders I could only have dreamed of, walked in places I never knew existed, and experienced feelings ranging from near-bliss to mortal terror. I’ll certainly have no dearth of stories to tell my grandchildren, though I doubt they’ll believe me.
Of course, you weren’t really travelling all those places for me; you were going anyway, and just wanted some company on the journey. And wealth comes so easily to you; pick up a few things cheap in places where they’re common, sell them dear in places they’re rare or unique, and before you know it you’re as rich as Croesus with less effort than it takes to decide what you want for tea. Everything comes to you like that – travel, money, women – and because it does you don’t truly value any of it. Money becomes merely a means to your ends, one place is a great deal like another and women are as replaceable as any other creature comfort.
Don’t say I’m being unfair; yes, I know, you love everybody. But don’t you see, loving everybody is the same as loving nobody? When love is just a principle rather than a feeling, it loses all personal meaning; I’m sure you want “justice” for me as well, but that will hardly be a comfort during all the long, lonely nights to come.
Have you picked her out yet, my replacement I mean? I can think of a few likely candidates; I’ve seen the way you looked at some of the women we’ve encountered of late. And I know you have a knack for “accidentally” running into someone again when you want to, even though you and I both know that with the way you travel, the odds against such a second meeting occurring purely by coincidence are completely astronomical. It’s just one more example of the way you fix the game to get the outcome you want.
Please, don’t look at me like that, and don’t act as though I’m really hurting your feelings; I’m sure that I’m not the first woman to react in this fashion. You probably can’t even count the number of similar scenes you’ve played, much less remember the names of the actresses. And now it’s my turn; “Exit, stage left”. My goodies are all packed, and I see we’ve arrived at the home I left all those many months ago (or is it years? It’s been so hard to keep track). All that remains now is for me to walk out that door with my valises, then turn around and watch you quite literally vanish from my life forever, off on new adventures with a new companion.
One Year Ago Today
“February Updates (Part Two)” reports on a judge forbidding a retarded man from having sex, the dismissal of a really stupid lawsuit against a Las Vegas escort, a woman who died from a botched butt enlargement, and the epic failure of the “sex trafficking” predictions for last year’s Super Bowl.
So this is what it’s like when a woman gets “dumped” … good! I hope it’s painful!! 😛
Cuz I was “dumped” several times … and even once I tried to dump a girlfriend, and somehow she did some feminine voo-doo on me and turned it around and dumped ME!
Only once did I successfully dump a girlfriend – and she sent me a Christmas card every Christmas for five years and every one of them had a RAT on it wearing a Santa hat! So that didn’t work out too well either.
I had to read this several times, dullard that I am – because I was looking for the science fiction or horror angle in it. There is none – so I’m assuming this is the tale of high-class escort who gives up her life to travel exclusively for one man?
There is a definite sci-fi angle in it, but the clues are very subtle. Keep watching the comments; I know someone will catch on soon. 😉
Dammit – I knew I missed something! Dumazzz.
It’s not that you’re dumb; you probably just aren’t familiar with the show that inspired it. 🙂
The key word is “companion.” Doctor Who?
Okay … I got it. 🙁
She was in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi!!! 😛
Or … maybe Superman … eff me!!
Is he a time traveler?
A time traveling Doctor perhaps?
Give that man a sonic screwdriver! 😀
Please no … noooooo!
Not “Doctor Who”!!
Not fair! I was trying to think of someone studly … like Clark Kent … or something.
Who could fall in love with Doctor Who? You can’t sleep in the same bed with him because of all that hair. He had a ‘fro that was wider than his shoulders – for crying out loud!
You’re thinking of the Fourth Doctor; there have been eleven. You’re also thinking like a man (which, admittedly, is to be expected); women don’t usually fall in love based on looks.
Who says Tom Baker wasn’t attractive? Physically speaking, he was the perfect Byronic type, and anyone who saw “The Golden Voyage of Sinbad” could reasonably wonder what was so great about John Phillip Law. Of course, my favorite from the film was the gorgeous Caroline Munro.
IMHO he was the most attractive of the Doctors, and I know I’m not remotely alone in that opinion. 🙂
Tom Baker or Sean Connery? Go for it.
This is a twist on the “Ginger or Mary Ann?” question – of which Mary Ann was the only rational answer.
Brilliant!
😀
Chemiso.
The Time Traveler’s Wife?
I was fairly sure who it was to start with, though the offer of payment made me doubt my guess, it’s not typically his style, although he will read and adapt to people’s personalities when necessary. The final line was the clincher that assuaged my doubt that was already diminishing with all the other confirming evidence. That and your tweet and the title put the idea in my head as one of the possibilities.
I say Doctor Who, but someone beat me to it already.
A few years back, somebody asked the Doctor if Rose was his prostitute.
Got me. I’m a real Doctor who fan. When I found myself here, in the USA, as a teenager, I was lost. I had thought it would be so much easier, but nothing much was familiar. Until one night I turned on the telly, and there he was, the Doctor!
I’ve had a string of Doctor Who loves, Tom Baker of course, but also Peter Davidson. And David Tennat. I know that whenever one Doctor leaves me, another will be along to take his place. He’ll be different, but intriguing in his own way.
Jon Pertwee is my second favorite after Tom Baker, then Davidson. My least favorites were Colin Baker (for his personality) and Sylvester McCoy (for the crappy writing of his shows).
I loved the story. Exactly the way a woman feels when she’s been dumped even though – as the Doctor’s companion – she must have known from the beginning that this will be the inevitable ending.
I know of Doctor Who. I’ve even seen a few eps. But I’m not a fan or follower, so I didn’t get it.
I do remember reading this thing years ago where it was speculated that the Doctor might be the father of a certain gentleman of Virginia, a gentleman whose movie comes out next month on the ninth.
Took me a few days to get to reading this. I really try to exist in a state of denial about Companion-parting-phenomena, such that I can re-watch Rose getting closed off in another universe and it’s like getting hit with a ton of bricks every time. Not looking forward to the parting of Amy & Rory. Perhaps I now understand why people enjoyed Titanic so much, despite the fact that it insisted on sinking upon every viewing.
“I take the words, and scatter them through time and space”
“You looked into the Time Vortex! Rose, you’re not supposed to do that”
“I want you safe! My Doctor.”
White Goddess to Dalek Emperor, Checkmate.
For Love. 💗