I can't stop thinking about Colin on his travels. Colin, alone, on a journey to 17 different cities, across several countries. Colin on his own.
Colin who writes letter after letter, to his family, to his friends, and barely gets a response back. How long before he understands that they didn't get lost in the mail? How long until he realizes that, just like when he was a boy, no one has the time for him? The space for him? How many letters unanswered before he lets it finally take root and fester in his mind?
He could have died on that tour.
Would they even notice? Would they see when the letters slow until they cease? Would they wonder why? His mum, surely (maybe, possibly, but she has enough on her hands, besides, and he's never been a concern, in need of her assistance, before), but anyone else? Anthony on his honeymoon, Eloise a stormcloud personified, Benedict taking on the familial responsibilities, Fran preparing for the marriage mart and in Bath, regardless. Daphne, his closest sister, a mum running her own estate.
Greg and Hyacinth who enjoy his stories, but are children.
Pen who ignores him. No explanation, no goodbye.
Colin who has no one in his corner. Colin who travels city to city, putting on personas. Will they like me? What about now? Colin who has hardly anything to read from the people he loves. Who do not think of him.
And yet he thinks of them. Brings them back gifts, writes his recollections for them until it hits him that, oh, they don't care. They don't care what he's doing, how he's doing. They didn't want to hear it before, when he was there with them, and they do not want to hear it now, either. Did they even open those envelopes? Did they see them come through the post, just as proof he's alive, and shrug off the contents? Did they look? Once, Colin sends an empty page. No one notices. Easier, then, to send just the outsides. People only ever care about the outsides. Pretty and prim in neat packages, uncaring of what lies beneath. Sea sick on the rocking boats, staring up at stars on the continent, Colin grows aware, but not bitter. Sad, but resigned.
He loves his family, he loves Pen, loves them to grace, loves them to it's okay. It was him, he determines. Too chatty, his letters too long, uninteresting, his passions dull or droll, or else, worse, he's displeased them in some way. Colin who takes refuge in stranger's arms and homes, who dreams and tries to sate his curiosity. Colin who pretends, because anyone, anyone but him would be received better, he's sure of it. Colin who must talk too much, surely, and with no one to listen. Colin who learns to hush.
Yes. Remarkable- as in, I have many remarks about it.
How many times did he go to excitedly write of what he did that week, and stopped himself, knowing it was a waste? How many times did he write and throw into the fire a letter asking Why don't you see me? Why don't you care?
If he didn't make it, how long would it take for anyone to notice? A month? Two? A year? Would they wave it off as his frivolity, denounce him as a flake and fume about the funds? Would they wonder where it was he had lost himself off at?
He cannot fall into that, so, he writes in his journal, instead. Of the ache of it, of how he longs for connection, for understanding, for someone to take him seriously. He keeps it with him, this log of his discontent, of his folly and felicity, of his pitfalls and pains.
If he didn't make it, would they realize all that's left of him is what he sent them, not even a body to bury? Did he look over the side of a bow of a boat and look at the churn of the ocean and think of how many bones it held? Did he tip his face to the sun? How many new scars did he earn? Who did he befriend?
Who did he become?
Somewhere along the line, Colin learned. He learned the real him wasn't wanted.
Somewhere along the line, somewhere between Patmos and Paris, Colin left Colin behind.
And, somewhere along the line, Colin laid face to face with loneliness in his bed, and it wrapped its arms around him.
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The JackKeeley story would have been vastly improved imo if they had actually used it as a mechanism to explore Keeley's headspace with both her 3-season cycle of crumbling relationships and her struggles with her job. Like, yeah Jack was definitely...something... as a character. Incredibly unlikable, obviously. A conservative elitist bitch who saw Keeley as someone she needed to hid to protect her own image, absolutely. Lauding Keeley around the office and showering her with gifts in this weird peacocking of their power imbalance, yes. And then to top it off she went and decided to victim blame her girlfriend after Keeley refused to do what Jack wanted her to do/"risked" Jack's precious reputation. All of which was completely gross, and it was unpleasant to watch, and I totally get why people hate it on that alone. BUT Jack was a Plot Device character, which I personally could probably have gone along with so long as she like...actually serviced an arc worth telling with a satisfying conclusion, anddd that's where the show lost me.
I think the writers sort of tried to do something interesting with it, what with showing how depressed and spiraling Keeley got after that breakup and maybe making half a reference to her abandonment issues and having her panic over the loss of her funding. But, rather than the end result being Keeley grasping hold of her own life and taking space to reexamine what she actually wants out of both her relationships and career, she... immediately falls back into old patterns (by sleeping with Roy despite not wanting to get back together with him just to feel something or whatever, which is then never explicitly addressed as a bad move or ill advised behavior) and gets her business back by...virtue of having a rich friend who can swoop in with several thousand pounds and fix all her problems (i cannot begin to tell you how much I loathed Rebecca fixing everything for her instead of Keeley finding her own path back). At the VERY LEAST I wish she had gotten the opportunity to process the things that had happened to her in that relationship and how damaged she clearly felt by it, lean on her friends for emotional support and healing (rather than having them pull out their wallets and immediately problem solved), and have an honest and frank conversation with Roy about how he, too, hurt her and his apology wasn't good enough and wasn't going to fix everything immediately. That's what Keeley deserved.
Which is all to say, I definitely did not enjoy Jack or the JackKeeley relationship, but I would've been willing to forgive a lot if including her had felt like...purposeful? Instead (like Zava & Shandy and a lot of things in s3 tbh) it just felt like she was taking up a bunch of screen time while not furthering Keeley (the main character we are all very invested in and actually care about) at all in her journey. Instead the show just kept kicking Keeley while she was down and then at the end everything was magically grand again with Keeley having next to no real agency in any of it. That's why keeley's s3 storyline was so damn bad (Jack included).
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