An Asexual's love letter to Good Omens 2
There's an infamous quote by Neil Gaiman going around, regarding the general vibe of season 2, and many people (I believe humorously) yelling that it could not be further from the truth. Particularly in the last episode, where that happens.
The final episode of season 2 was deeply, deeply comforting to me.Â
I am asexual. Have been my whole life. Even before I had the words to describe what that was, child-me had this feeling in their gut of being an outlier, that everyone was exaggerating, or in on some joke, that I wasnât privy to. Because I was bombarded on all sides by shows and movies and books, telling the same story of love, again, and again, and AGAIN. Itâs drilled into our brains with the same fervor as the days of the week, or the quadratic formula. Meet-cute -> misunderstanding ->declaration of feelings ->kiss. More or less steps can be added to account for runtime or complexity of narrative, but thatâs the basic structure that a relationship follows. It MUST be, because thatâs the formula every character who's ever been in a story goes through, often times when it even feels like an add-on, like itâs only there because this is a story, there HAS to be a romance. And it has to follow the steps.
For a long time, I felt love wasnât for me, because if thereâs only one way to be in love, I sure as hell wasnât feeling it.Â
Instead, the relationship I ended up in looked a lot like what Beezlebub and Gabriel go through. Meeting someone routinely until it starts to feel comfortable. Getting to know them and slowly growing more attached. Eating chips and listening to music.
We like to joke whenever someone asks us how long weâve been together, because the answer is we just sort of slowly fell into it, and we honestly donât know when the line got blurred between âfriendsâ and âpartnersâ. And, at least for me, a good deal of that confusion, that hesitancy to label, came from the fact that what I was feeling, what we were, couldnât be love. It couldnât be romantic.Â
We were just quiet and gentle.
Because it was slow, because it wasnât physical, because there was no structure aside from consistency and companionship. Because it didnât follow the Rules.
Then I found myself in stories, and it felt like a revelation.
Beelzebub and Gabriel arenât the first time Iâve seen a love like I feel represented in a narrative, but it never stops feeling special. And I donât know if Iâll ever stop celebrating it.
Throughout the sequence in the pub, I kept expecting them to âconfirmâ Gabriel and Beelzebub. A dramatic line, a kiss, a whatever. Thatâs what Iâve been taught to expect, after all, thatâs the only way a relationship is ârealâ. Of course, this doesn't mean Crowley and Aziraphale sharing a dramatic kiss is wrong, or that I canât see why it resonated with so many people, but for me. Those moments in the pub are worth so much more.The last scene might have been literally showstopping, but those handful of moments between the duke of hell and an archangel were the beating heart of the season for me. A simple love story in four scenes. No kisses. No âI love youâs. Not even any definition of what. The love Gabriel and Beelzebub have is strong enough for them to both want to shatter their worlds and flee their lives and it's just.Â
Two people in a pub, playing the other's favorite song, giving a little gift, buying a packet of crisps.Â
That sequence means far more to me than any kiss ever could.
Love isnât only real when it's hot and sudden and ephemeral, it can also be
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