Blake will be fine. He’s a superstar now.

Becca chose Garrett last night (I watch The Bachelorette late to avoid the commercials on Hulu) in Becca’s Greek tragedy of sorrow, fear and anguish over having to let Blake go home. Though maybe the anguish was over, since she’d been saying for the past two episodes she was in love with two men. But you could tell by her facial expressions, her body language, her silences when Blake professed his love, that ambivalence had ended.

Perhaps her family voted for Garrett and she listened. Besides, how could she love the handsome hunk named Blake (romantic poet Robert Blake, largely unrecognized in his lifetime) who after an encounter with her would be caught on camera damning himself for saying or doing the wrong thing.

The problem is Blake was a nervous guy. My heart bled for him once I saw him admit he had to pee right before a major encounter waiting for Becca to come out. Someone off camera said “go ahead,” and he loped off to relieve himself. Blake could be endearing.

Towards the end, I felt the director or whomever set him up for failure. On the last episode he and Becca go biking–big deal. Just the day before she’d experienced nirvana with Garrett on a massive sailboat, racing with the dolphins. Plus poor Blake met her family second. Already their hearts had gone to sunny, sweet, movie star gorgeous Garrett.  Not to mention when Blake walked in to meet the Kufrins (such an aged wrinkly mother, will Becca look like this in thirty years?) and two uncles and her plump kinky-haired sister who looked like she came from another father altogether–all fell prey to Garrett’s charm within minutes.

Then here comes Blake in his pink shorts with matching pink bouquet–too pretty–and immediately he admits how nervous he is. Garrett had come in protesting he wasn’t nervous, just excited; Garrett always said the right thing. And poor foot-in-mouth Blake always talked so fast. So fast you could barely understand him sometimes. Fast, as if to say, I’ll get this over quick because I’m not worth listening to. Or maybe fast because  he’s smart and his split second chatter proved it.

Blake was intelligent.

On the other hand, he was highly insecure. So many physical indications of this culminating in the last episode when his face literally flowed with sweat even before he realized Becca was giving him the  shaft. Drops of perspiration formed rivulets and dripped off the tip of his nose until finally, on his way out for good,  he wiped his face with his suit lapel. Only to be captured moments later sobbing into a white washcloth.Thank God they gave him that washcloth.

Blake had the looks all right: the chiseled jaw, the body builder physique, the thick curly hair and nice closed-mouth kisses rather than those big slobbery ones from Jason who was finally let go towards the end. “Jason’s an incredible kisser,” Becca said, but I don’t think she believed it.

But sadly, everything Blake had, Garrett had as well. In fact, they even looked a little alike. You could have picked them both out of the original line up as being quintessential American dream boats. Becca saw it in Blake right away.

Because of that, what really doomed Blake was exactly what he said:  the relationship peaked too early and was beginning to peter out by the time Garrett emerged with his sunnier disposition, his uncomplicated puppy dog adoration, his relaxing silliness and his ability to wax poetic.

“People say they get butterflies. But butterflies are a small thing. You give me, like, eagles,” he said to Becca. It went viral.

“He’s a poet,” proclaimed Becca’s uncle.

Poor Blake could sense the slippage and would comment on it afterwards in the final episodes, a tragedy underway in his mind. He was highly sensitive to these cues portending his doom. No more laughs and big wide grins from Becca. No more jumping up and straddling him when they met. Long milquetoast ramblings from her when he asked what her family thought of him, or what she felt for him.

I woke up this morning feeling sorry for Blake. In his loss, he rose to great heights. He was his most articulate and manly and courageous during the final episode post mortem. Stoic and strong and calm at last under Chris’s prying questions.

As my thirty-year-old son said, “He’ll be just fine. He’s a super star now.”


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