One of the things synonymous with the December holiday season is the deluge of holiday romance movies; most of which range between cute and saccharine, and almost all of which have your typical, ‘happily ever after’ ending. For the longest time, I’ve enjoyed these feel-good stories that gently carry you through their glossy, idealistic, neatly-tied-with-a-bow-at-the-end romances. This holiday season, though, I’ve been mulling over a different kind of love story – and the primary catalyst was the journey of Ted and Alexis on the sitcom Schitt’s Creek. (In the interest of full disclosure, I got stuck into Schitt’s Creek much later than the most of the world and, if you haven’t watched it yet, there are spoilers ahead.)
Long story short, through the various seasons of the sitcom, the characters of Ted and Alexis go through a number of ups and downs in their relationship – mostly figuring themselves out as individuals, growing into versions of themselves they learn to love and be proud of. And the more they do that, the stronger their relationship grows. In the last season of the show, both characters have become the kind of people they want to be and love themselves and each other for that. Then, Ted gets offered chance to do research in the Galápagos Islands, while Alexis’ PR career has just begun to take off. And while both of them are willing to give up their own individual dream to be with the other, they decide to let each other go – perhaps because they know that forcing themselves to be together at this stage will only take away from each of them as people, and that would be a disservice to their love.
This story ending has stayed with me long after I finished watching the last season of the sitcom. Not just because it is one of the more beautiful moments of television I’ve seen in a while, where beauty and pathos are wrapped together in an incredibly poignant way; but also because it got me thinking about how every love story does not need to have a ‘happily ever after’ ending. When the conventional “being together forever” choice ends up taking away – from the individuals, the relationship, the love – then maybe the happier ending is choosing not to be together, and keeping the love undiminished instead.
The novel Me before You by Jojo Moyes resonated for very similar reasons. Lou Clark and Will Traynor were never going to have the perfect, romantic ending to their story. But that didn’t diminish the fierce, potent beauty of the love they had. A number of stories on the series Modern Love were kindred endearing tales, where love burst through the screen space, even without the predictable plot trajectory. The woman who cherishes the scrap heap of her car that reminds her of her deceased husband, even while loving her current life and family, the building doorman who dotes on the resident single mom and her daughter like his family, the gay couple and their softness for the woman whose baby they’re adopting – these stories are all about elevating the love that exists, regardless of what path the love takes.
It is December 2021 and these are the kinds of narratives I’m falling in love with more and more. Where love is strong and beautiful and celebrated, even while acknowledging that it might never have the “fairytale” ending; that the love is not always dependent on being together in the conventional sense of the word; that maybe the ending of a love story does not have to mean the ending of love. Ted and Alexis’ story carried strength and grace, and put love ahead of the need to be together. A love that lives on, no matter how the story goes … that’s my kinda love story.