Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Have you ever met such a woman that made you feel seen, comforted, loved, appreciated… have you ever met such a woman that you couldn’t believe she was real?
The man certainly hadn’t. But one day he met her. And you must be thinking the same as I am - that she was too good to be true.
Deep down, perhaps, the man thought the same. But he shoved those thoughts even deeper until they had practically disappeared, showing up only late, late at night, when he couldn’t even be sure what he was thinking about.
He let the woman sweep him off his feet. She knew just what to say, just what to do, to get into his heart. He wore it on his sleeve, however, so that wasn’t all too difficult to do.
The man allowed himself to be taken away, taken to their own little world, their own little paradise. He allowed himself to fall for her beauty, her charm. He was, as I’m sure you’ve realized by now, a fool. A lovesick fool.
She was in love with him, that much is true, and she made him feel special. But he soon realized he wasn’t special, not to her.
So he made the right choice. Not the easy choice; he’d been making the easy choice with her for far too long. He made the right choice, dear reader. He ended their relationship.
Where is the man now, you ask? He is drowning in his misery, drinking the sadness away. But one say, he’ll get over it. Perhaps he’ll find another woman, or a man. Someone else who brings out the best in him.
And where is the woman? That, I can’t say. The man has avoided contact with her, and he is the only one here I can speak on. Perhaps she, too, is coping poorly. Finding comfort in alcohol, in sexual relations, in her piles of paperwork. Wherever she is, it is not with the man. And that’s alright with him.
Surely by now, you’re thinking, but they were in love. They could have worked things out. And to that, my reader, I say only this: neither of them were wise enough to do that. Perhaps he didn’t make the right choice, perhaps I lied. Perhaps that was the easy choice all along.
Or perhaps they were never meant to be. That seems much more likely to me. I suppose we can never truly know. I only wish the man and the woman true happiness in things other than each other.
~fin

Chapter Text

I once spoke to you of a man, of a lovesick fool, who allowed himself to be swept away by a woman with visions of love and grandeur. I expressed my disdain for this man and his foolishness.
Truthfully, the man I spoke of was myself. George Eliot. I, George Eliot, allowed myself to be taken away from reality, from my dignity, by a woman.
Surely now, you’re wondering, who, Eliot, was so wonderful she could take the heart of a man of such intelligence, of such composure, and shatter it to pieces with a single sentence? Surely now, you’re wondering, how could you be such a fool?
The first question, well, it’s a difficult one to answer. I quite honestly hesitate to attempt to put this woman into mere words, for, reader, mere words fail to do her justice. She’s a beautiful woman, an accepting woman, the first woman I truly allowed myself to open up to in any romantic or sexual sense. She took me by the hand and let me through a haze, and I blindly followed. Truly, I wouldn’t change a thing even if I could.
The second question… even I do not know, dearest reader. The best explanation I can give is… love makes us do quite foolish things.
This is both a warning to be cautious when in love, and an invitation to throw all caution to the wind when in love. While the experience was painful, it was a necessary one, and I wish all the best to Miss Kelly Trackstock.

~ fin