So he’s a narcissistic, vain Lothario of a near-sociopath, wrapped up in a misogynistic buttwipe of a man, but despite his faults, I love him. I think I can fix him.

I’m not talking about my ex or any of the handful of guys I’ve dated in this interim period (the time after my separation and before my new love took root) but of Dr. Christian Troy of McNamara / Troy, Nip / Tuck’s flawed and flashy plastic surgeon partner played by Australian Julian McMahon. If Christian used his accent while shooting the show, I would have his name emblazoned across my rear end using indelible ink. I don’t care what color. (I can call him Christian–we’re in love.)

Well, we’re not in love exactly. Yet. I mean, he doesn’t know we are yet. But that’s just because he hasn’t met me. It’s kind of like being in seventh grade again. Thinking about writing to his agent (the contact info for whom I can gain access by simply subscribing to IMDB. I know this because while I was stalking him, I stumbled across that little tidbit!) and asking if he wants to go steady. Maybe the email equivalent of something scrawled on the back of a napkin:

Will you go with her? Yes No (circle one)

That’s about as far as I’ve gotten with this one. Even in seventh grade I didn’t know what ‘go with’ meant. Go where? And then I realized that OMG, I like Christian Troy for the same reason I like all the other guys I like. He is completely unrealistic. He is emotionally unavailable, cannot require real intimacy from me, and the idea of who he is in my head presents a compelling vision which can never be disproven due to the fact that he is neither real nor anywhere in my physical proximity. Further, I can pine away unrequited which makes great fodder for grand melancholy. He is absolutely perfect for me!

BUT, I am almost finished with Season Six, and that is all Netflix allows me. Soon–within nine episodes–I am going to have to come to terms with our inevitable breakup, Christian’s and mine. I am just not in a place where I can really commit to him. I am not sure what I want to be when I grow up, and this next little stint of getting that worked out could contribute more stress to what can only be difficult: life with a celebrity. Would he be willing to put his needs on hold while I work these existential things out? There is just a gnawing in my heart that tells me he might not be faithful to even me.

It breaks my heart, it really does, but I am not going to mourn this prematurely. We have had a great five and a half seasons. I saw him through breast cancer (his), I rejoiced when he embraced fatherhood even though the child wasn’t his, I was touched when he finally got a chance with Julia (I knew it wouldn’t stick–she’s a whiner). We had a little disagreement when he turned to the rug instead of just tossing his natural head of hair out there (‘I dig bald, Christian,’ I said. ‘Just be who you are!’) and I was just about to kick him out of my heart when he forged Sean’s name for that loan to cover his back taxes, but he figured out a way to make it right. That’s how the flawed man flies. But in nine more episodes this chapter will be over. He will be just another character in my story, and I will be just like an adoring fan to him, like someone he’s never actually met.

That’s how love can be sometimes. In junior high.