FRIENDS Analysis: Rachel Green’s Soulmate is Joshua Burgin

FRIENDS Created by: David Crane, Marta Kauffman & additional credit to Kevin S. Bright (executive producer)

FRIENDS Created by: David Crane, Marta Kauffman & additional credit to Kevin S. Bright (executive producer)

For Monica Geller’s Soulmate, click here.
For Ross Geller’s Soulmate, click here.

Today’s Topic:
Soulmationships: Rachel Green and Joshua Burgin

Foreword:

The closest thing to Rachel’s soulmate is Joshua… but truthfully, this is the hardest one to write because they don’t spend a great deal of screen time dating. We see Rachel in pursuit — which is vital — but we don’t see Rachel and Joshua.

After going through Rachel’s other long-term relationships (seeing how they start and why they end), it’s clear that Joshua is the outlier… but just because a character is an outlier, doesn’t make them a soulmate. However, so many of Rachel’s long-term relationships are carnal, so the only alternative to Joshua would be to say that Rachel doesn’t have a soulmate. It’s a little tragic, but wholly fitting for her character by the end of the series.

This analysis is best read after Ross Geller’s because of the Ross/Rachel dynamic, but to briefly sum up, at the core of Ross’ analysis, Julie was Rachel, but better. The reason Ross pursues Rachel is due to nostalgia, entitlement, and the fact that Rachel was the foundation for which he measured all women. For Rachel it’s similar, albeit converse: Joshua is Ross, but better.

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I Fell For Ferguson

Or
I’m Headlines Over Heels

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I consider myself a reader, but an “avid reader” would be overzealous. The one thing I was confident in was that I wasn’t a “headliner.”

I’m sure there’s a real word for it, but I’m going with headliner because that makes the most sense to me. You know the type, people who read headlines instead of articles — a deplorable trait that NPR mocked this past April Fool’s with a headline that read “Do People Read Anymore?”

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The Red Door (A Short Story)

There was always the red door.

In my parents’ house, there was a red door, unlike all the others which were a thick brown. On cold mornings, a dew would build upon the doors, making them sticky, almost as though you could taste the touch. They were like molasses and it made their shine wholly palpable.

All except the red door.

No matter the weather, the red door remained a flat red. Even if the steam from the bathroom caused normal doors to sweat, the red door wouldn’t.

I remember…

I was seven. I was taking one of my first showers. My mother had cooked spaghetti and meatballs — my favorite. I had been sick that whole week and was finally better. I was hungry, but well. I was strong enough to stand and not feebly sit in the tub. I could smell it from upstairs.

Then I heard a knock.

I told them I was almost finished.

They knocked again.

I said I was ready to eat, but before I could finish…

Knock.

I turned off the shower and reached behind the curtain for a towel. I scrubbed my head and quickly wrapped the towel around my waist. I pulled the curtain aside and there… Was the red door.

Despite the steam, it was flat red. No dew. No shine. The mirrors: fogged; the tiles: slippery; the door: red, flat red.

All of our brown doors had a small gap at the bottom, where the cats would chase shadows and we could see if someone was behind the door. Not the red one. From top to bottom, it was sealed… So the steam wafted in the stagnate air.

I dried myself off, stepped over the tub, and sank to the tiled floor, back pressed against the outer tub. I covered my waist with the towel and tucked it under for security. I stared, and waited.

There was one rule: Do not open the red door. Continue reading

An Image of Space from the World

There is no void.  Emptiness does not exist.  Even if it may seem as though there is nothing, something is always present.

Darkness.

Light appears often to create contrast and allow for alternate perspectives.  But it does not eliminate what it covers.  Shadows remain.  Semblances of what was and of what will return. Continue reading