I love stories. I joke that books are my best friends, but it's not entirely a joke. When GO first triggered such a deep emotional response from me, my husband noticed and couldn't understand. In my own effort to understand and explain it, I've looked back, looked up, looked around. I've spent so much time unearthing things in myself that I'd buried. I've brushed off the dirt, looked closely, and felt things awaken that hurt but need to be allowed to hurt to properly heal. These things have echoed the raw emotion of my first response, but I can tell they are not the whole answer. I've rewatched the TV series (a *few times), read the book, joined Tumblr to read other people's ideas, and kept notebooks full of analysis, ideas, questions. I've recommited to my writing because I can feel that part of me waking up again -- stirring and sitting up in a deep pit of despair where rejection had left it to wither. It's not just that the trigger was painful- it was also awakening. So much about myself that had just laid down and accepted "this is life" is waking up and it's angry, and hopeful, and confused. After all my searching, I think that part of the reason is how I relate personally to this story based on my past and my dreams. But, also, I absolutely love Aziraphale and Crowley. I love their story. It's touched me deeply and I'll never be the same. And really really good stories do that. I also think that so many of us feel like this because we are all Aziraphale and Crowley. They are in each of us. Personally, I'm much more Aziraphale- in so many beautiful and, also, unhealthy ways. And, I've followed the rules all my life. Full of love but at the detriment to myself, never allowed to even really ask what I want. When I think back to my young adult self, I remember knowing I really wanted children. But, also knowing I really did not want to be married. At that time, being married meant a man and a woman. That's all. And, if you wanted children, that was your only choice. I remember the deep shame of my thoughts about other girls, and the shame was so strong that I never even admitted those "temptations" to anyone. I thought, it's bad enough being tempted by lustful thoughts about boys, having these thoughts about girls, too, was some twisted act of the devil and if I even admitted to being tempted in that way, I'd be ... well, at the time, it didn't even bear thinking about. Let's just say, it would not have gone over well. With anyone. There were no allies. There was no one telling me to be myself. There were a lot of people telling me to follow the rules and be "good." Can you imagine Aziraphale if he'd never met Crowley? Imagine all those questions slowly pecking at his brain with no one to encourage him to explore the answers, helping him to look at things differently, showing him that love can exist and good can manifest-- outside the "rules." Imagine never tasting food because you were told it's unhealthy and wrong- all the while knowing you want to taste the food. But, never allowing yourself. Never allowing yourself to even ask if that's what you really want. Over the years, I've developed some beautiful friendships that have given me the space to question and to be myself. I'm so very thankful for those friendships. But, it's not the same as what I see when I look at Aziraphale and Crowley. And that's what I want. And that want is what is waking up inside, yawning and stretching, and it hurts, and it's bittersweet. But I refuse to try and put it back to sleep. Have you ever felt a deep sense of missing someone, but you can't place who? Or feeling homesick when you're home? I've felt that way before. It always puzzled me. I think that even though I like the analogy that we are all part Aziraphale and part Crowley, I admit that I'm much more Aziraphale. And, I think I'm searching for Crowley. I want that. I want what they have with my whole heart. But, like Aziraphale, I can't bring myself to hurt anyone else in order to find it.
Update: I left an abusive relationship. (Yes, I'm in therapy.) I came out to my mom after fearing that conversation for years. It was beautiful. I moved to the city. I was terrified at the time; but, I love it. I am writing. It makes me feel alive and whole. I am acting for the first time. It's something I've always wanted to do and I love it. I'm making new friends and I'm so very thankful for all the friends who have supported me on this journey. I wouldn't say I've met my Crowley. But, I'm learning how to ask for what I want. I'm learning not to be afraid of making mistakes. (Yes, and. Go improv!) I hope that anyone else who has read this and identified with my story is encouraged to stand up for yourself and have the courage to seek a happy, healthy life. I welcome any asks or DMs.
