Thursday 21 April 2016

On The Ending of the Series and Closure

Hey Ragers and Ragettes! 


This is kind of a part 2 of my last post about getting emotionally involved with the Show, The Killing (Or Forbrydelsen if you are Danish).  I was chatting to Suzanne about it and, like she always does, she pointed out something that was so obvious about why this show was hurting me to finish.

If you can remember, I was dating a Danish guy, Jan, before I met Simon.   It was an intense 6 week fling but it left an indelible print on my mind and heart.  

I never really confronted my feelings.  It ended strangely and abruptly.  We just kind of....stopped.  He sent a flustered text in broken English saying that he couldn’t be in a relationship and that he was moving to London for work.   I numbly texted back agreeing but I remember feeling like I was punched in the stomach.  I started seeing Simon and I used that to forget about him.

But I never did.

I still have the old texts.  I will be out somewhere and I will get a whiff of his Chanel aftershave and crumble.  I will hear a song that reminds me of that time and fall to pieces.  I asked Suzanne why I let him get under my skin? Why I still feel raw? 

The thing is, I started watching that show around the time when I started seeing him.  We’d joke and laugh about it, he’d tease me with clues about what happened and when we finished, I had just finished season 2.

I didn’t want to see Season 3.  The thought terrified me but last weekend I decided that I needed to see it.  So I started watching it...with a large glass of red wine.  It is fabulous and great (Sofie Gråbøl is seriously an amazing actress) but that feeling in the pit of stomach crept up...And when the main character fucked the strangely sexy man that was clearly hiding something I broke down and cried.  Hard. 

The sick feeling carried over from the night before to Monday.   I thought it was the program.  But after that conversation with Suzanne it fell into place. 

I felt so angry.  I am angry because it ended with him.  I am angry because he got under my skin and into my heart.  I am angry because he took my power away from me.  But I am angrier because I couldn’t be the woman that he wanted me to be.   You all know that I am a curvier lady (But that is definitely changing...I’ll blog about that in the next few weeks).  I don’t have thick lush hair, perky boobs, and a washboard stomach.   I didn’t know what he wanted.   And that is what made me angry.  I didn’t know him as well as I wanted and as I thought it did.   It was a quick, passion filled lustathon.  I didn’t get to know his favorite colour or background.  All I knew was he knew what buttons to press (mentally and physically).  When he kissed me, I melted.  His touches made every nerve in my body react in ways that I never experienced before.  He claimed to not be “experienced” but he knew what he was doing.  He just instinctively knew where and how to touch me.  It was to the point that if he told me to move back to Denmark with him, I would have dropped everything no questions asked and run after him.

Was it love?  I have no clue.  Sometimes I think it was a crazy dream.  Surely a man like that wasn’t real?

Coming to the end of the series made these feelings come to the surface. All beautiful and wonderful things do come to an end. 

Suzanne told me that with TV series that we love, when they end, you get to write the rest of the story in your mind. 

So I like to think in the story of Jan and Betty this is the ending:

Betty goes on to be successful in business.  She opens a salon, marries Simon, and travels the world.  She has a fabulous wardrobe of clothes, the ultimate shoe collection, good friends and lives happily ever after.

Jan moves back to Denmark.  He is happy and successful.  He meets a woman and they fall in love.  But every once and awhile on a cold and clear Danish night, while he sips a glass of red by the fire, he thinks back fondly to the time that he dated and made love to a crazy American in Manchester named Betty Rage....


Until next time, Ragers and Ragettes, keep your head and standards high and your heels even higher

Lots of Love



The Fabulous Betty Rage xxxx

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