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Over 5 Years, 'Game of Thrones' Changed the Course of My Love Life Forever

#VocalGOT Can one story change who and how you love?

By Nessy WriterPublished 5 years ago 9 min read
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Who would I become?

It's strange and interesting how series, books, films, stories, and ideas have such agency. The human way of understanding the world in the only way that affords full freedom. It can have ripple effects that cross the border of fiction into our real lives. Stories, like smells or sounds, can catapult us back in time to the point when they were most relevant. This has always been particularly powerful for me. I've always loved books and writing. Something that came from within me, not any outside influence. I would spend all my free time in the library and went by the nickname of "Bookworm." I would get deeply emotional when following my favourite characters, feeling their woes, joys and challenges as if I was there. As if I was them. An active imagination is the grounds for identification. But Game of Thrones intertwined itself like a relaxed serpent into an aspect of my life that seemed so strangely far from it. My love life.

I'd always loved fantasy. It seems natural that my imagination would take hold of and internalise stories as epic as I was about to encounter. Fantasy books and fiction informed my earliest ideas of romance. Of what it was and what it meant. I imagined that there was magic in it, at least there was supposed to be. And Game of Thrones mirrored my own loves in a way that was both mysterious and invigorating. GOT is no fairy tale. And neither is life. Or love. But sometimes, it is just as epic.

When I first encountered Game of Thrones, it was through someone that I had no idea at the time would turn out to be pretty significant. In Stark (not his real name), I had met with my first ever long term, serious boyfriend and part of a relationship that ended up being my longest yet and since, lasting two and a half years. Stark was indeed a true Northerner, hailing from the far north of England. A gentleman who was gruff and stubborn, who believed in strong whisky and good ale. Set in his ways, with a warm laugh and a quick lighting temper. His melting blue eyes were the start of a fiery passion that transformed into love. It was a deep and honest love.

But he suffered from the touch of the White Walker, a state of mental health that danced with death on a constant basis. Depression and bipolarism. I tried to be his rock in the ocean. But he was still at times always on the verge of drowning. The mental condition brought both coldness and anger at times, surrounding always a deeply honest, loving heart. Stark was a true Castleman of the North. He had lived in the Keep of the castle where we would engage in Dungeons and Dragons together. I mean the actual Keep of a castle. No, really. I'll explain.

You see, the story already resonated with me. There were a number of parallels I related to at that time. I'd moved north to study Natural Sciences at Durham University. It was as far North as you could go without entering Scotland (which for a London-raised Southerner like me was very North indeed). A land where you knew Winter was coming. A place of frivolous balls lit by fireworks, ancient traditions, Latin speeches, and grand halls. A river winding its way around a majestic cathedral and the castle where many students live to this day.

Stark became my first serious and long term relationship, the first true love of my life. He gave me all the GOT books to read and we watched the series together religiously. It was clear to me very early on that I related to another character entirely. As cliche as it is, I wasn't a Stark. Before I came to university, I was in fact known by a childhood pet name and later fighting name. I kid you not, the "Lady Dragon," born of almost two decades of Martial Arts training and competing at the time. I was always a warrior. Daenerys was my queen. I had a studied reverence for warrior queens of the past. I identified with them, enamoured by tales of Boudicea, Catherine the Great, Elizabeth I, Rani of Jhansi, and Queen Jinga of Angola to name a few. These women weren't just reigning monarchs but warriors, actively engaging with the battle field or else making their presence felt there in such a way that men wanted to follow them. These women knew what it meant to rule and to fight. They inspired me greatly.

Over the course of that year and with the coming of summer, University came to an end. I could no longer wander the Castle Halls. Who knew when I was to see the cathedral glass again? Stark and I moved home. Like Daenerys, I didn't fully belong in the North, a posh foreigner from the South, I knew that this was where I was meant to be. It naturally took its toll on the relationship. Long distance was a strain. As was my dream to become a full time, professional fighter, a warrior, an MMA cage fighter in fact, but that's another story. I could certainly relate to the struggles of Arya in that respect. Stark wanted to remain in his Northern fortress. He would never come here. His mind was also a fortress of its own that I knew I might never fully penetrate.

I ended it. So that we could live our respective lives in our respective kingdoms and focus on my quest. Much as Arya refused Gendry, I could not simply be the lady of the Castle, I was a warrior. I hadn't finished reading the books. Stark took them all back. I couldn't really blame him could I? I took his heart in the end. He took the books. After that Game of Thrones was burned for me.

In the years that followed, I encountered Lannisters. Those who hid secrets. Those who had no intention of love for the sake of love but more so where love fell into their plans and schemes to make them feel powerful. I couldn't bear to get the last books or to watch the series again. Speaking of or even thinking about Game of Thrones became so painful to me. It was too closely linked to the one true love of my life at that time. He even bought me a Stark hoodie and a set of Game of Thrones wine glasses for my 21st birthday. One glass each for the houses of Stark, Baratheon, Lannister, and Targaryen. One by one, in the course of the following year, each one of the glasses shattered. I wept. But in my heart I knew it was an omen, even then.

Eventually, I encountered the biggest heartbreak of my life. White Walker was cold as the air beyond the Wall. He had seen such tragedy throughout his life that his heart froze over. He sought a perfection that didn't exist. By then, I felt ready for a new start. Ready to embrace GOT again. But I am also very honest. When White Walker found out why I hadn't watched it in so long, he put a black mark on it. We could never watch it together. Just as the Night King, living memory of anything before him had to be destroyed. He was paranoid, jealous, wounded, and in some ways, dead inside. I kid you not, often times he would say that he wasn't human. He didn't like "people." Couldn't connect with them. Couldn't connect with "feelings." Slowly, his control seeped into every aspect of me and my daily life, as if I too had been made a White Walker. He controlled how I spoke, how I behaved, how I dressed. He had once been a man. Perhaps with that man there could have been love, but not with a White Walker. When it finally ended, I was becoming one, before he finally decided to drive the dragonglass into my heart. It killed me at the time but it also set me free. He knew that would happen. For that, I'm grateful. I died so I could live again.

Over time my life wandered on and progressed, though slowly. I was too broken and scattered by this point. I'd left me warrior, fighting dreams behind me and wanted to pursue writing. That also seemed to have halted. Things were difficult at home. My mother had married a Lannister and secret White Walker—he was prone to lashing out, to screaming the house down. On one of my darkest days, a night when I'd encountered a monster in my own home and my eyes were swollen from crying, I stumbled across the light. The contact that would lead me to the man who was meant for the Dragon Queen. In this following picture he has given me permission to share you can see now the man I was always meant to be with. Khal Drogo:

Presenting my Khal Drogo.........

Yes that's really him and yes he has very long, black hair.

Despite his fierce appearance, Khal Drogo was all kindness. I'd never met anyone with a purer soul or warmer heart. He accepted me for who I was. Every side. Good, bad, and imperfect. He made me remember the strength I had long forgotten because he believed in it. He would follow it. Interestingly our references to each other are a reflection and the reverse of what Dany and Khal Drogo used in GOT but no less relevant. My Khal Drogo is a Scorpio, his element is water, and therefore to me he represents the moon. The moon of my life. I am a Leo, my element is fire and I am of the sun. He says I am with him shining on sunny days. I am his sun and stars.

In all else the similarities continue. I am British but originally from Eastern Europe. He is Brazilian so comes from a completely different culture to my own, from a hot and mysterious country so different to the U.K. and like the Dothraki legions also ruled in part by violence. My Khal speaks English well though with a heavy, exotic accent. Like Daenerys, I am slowly trying to learn his language, Portuguese, and like in their love, language never has and never will be a barrier. We are from two opposing worlds but somehow, that doesn't matter. As it happens, one thing we did share in common from the very start was a love of fantasy, but most specifically of Game of Thrones. For the first time in almost five years, I sat down to watch it again. I sang along to that suspenseful intro sequence again. I felt like the puzzle pieces of my life were finally clicking into place. We watched the whole series from where I left off. As we did, the hurt was healed. It was a fresh start, held together by a vision from long ago. I was ready to pursue the love story that in the series had been cut far too short

My Khal Drogo, converse to the character in the books, is not violent or vicious. But he did do for me what the character did for Daenerys. He brought me out of the darkness and allowed me to realise my own strength in a way I never expected. Game of Thrones could be tracked throughout this entire autobiographical journey, a test of where my relationships held together and where they fell apart. It certainly influenced how I made sense of everything I faced and how I chose to navigate it. It led me to Khal Drogo, who made me remember who I am. To believe it. That in my own right, I am still and will always be, the Dragon Queen.

May Our Reign be Long and Prosperous

The Khal and me, his Khaleesi

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About the Creator

Nessy Writer

A freelance writer of all sorts sharing it out with the world. Poetry, prose and advice.

If you want to show your support and see more please follow me on Twitter: Nessywriter

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