Yesterday a very good friend was spinning a yarn about how she saw her future, starting with who she would be ending up with. She is very fantastical, I wouldn’t be wrong in saying she would fit perfectly in Wuthering Heights – a Byronic hero in the vein of Heathcliff would suit her to a tee. Sadly, she might be a century or two mistaken.
Quintessential Byron.
Naturally, I was forced to give my tuppence worth in the veriest of Brontë styles. I don’t know if it was the mood or the general topic discussed, but we wandered off and ended up with the following highly-demanding description of my Heathcliff, mostly conjured up by her. I suppose, judging from this, she has a better view of my subconscious than I have myself (this should be accompanied by a bit of Keats, for sheer romantic drama):
“Incredibly attractive, friendly but slightly cocky with an (unexpected) outgoing edge, almost incomprehensibly intelligent and ambitious, stuck-up and self-aware but nonetheless very self-deprecating and unselfish, with an upper-middle class education, a whiff of pretency and a slight aristocratic feel; debonair and eager to please, confident but not on a pedestal, thoughtful and considering, open-minded and not afraid to express his opinion. Similar to me what arrogancy, wackiness, awareness of others and helpfulness is considered, with an ability to balance out my unintended hypocrisy, plethora of ideas and passion for travel, but supporting me in all my undertakings as I would be supportive of him. A strong rock in exchange for a safe haven. A counterweight to my surprisingly dominant character. And highly preferably British.”
I suppose this narrows it down to a Harrodian or other private school alumn, Surrey or an alike region-inhabitating, musically or otherwise talented, probably equestrian or generally sports-loving and incredibly charming. I would be moving up in the world, indeed!
Should anyone like this exist, please direct yourself to the nearest location of myself and make your enquiry.
