“Why Are You Like This, My Lady? (or, in the alternative: “Something is Rotten in Denmark, But I’m Too Lazy to Parody Ha

MY VOW TO THE GODS (AND EDITORS) OF THIS GENREI refuseREFUSEto become the "poor but handsome suitor" who tragically dies because some wealthy depressed noblewoman decided to read me poetry in a thunderstorm.Not happening.I'm going to live poor.I will probably die slightly less poor.But I will NOT die for dramatic symbolism.I will NOT be the guy who inspires a heroine to faint on the moors.And I will NOT get lured into any cursed romance that ends with:a duela stabbinga house firea secret cousintuberculosisor someone writing a 200-page monologue about my beautiful tragic soulNo.I'll live quietly, shabbily, and UN-romantically.Because let's be honest:With the exception of Jane Eyre,Victorian gothic romance makes Wuthering Heights look like Candyland.I am surviving this nightmare century.Even if it means running from every plot hook like it's cholera.