AGOURA HILLS, CA — In an amazing feat of dramatic explosion after being rejected by the “one true love of [her] life,” a bachelor contestant managed to tear up the entire multi-million dollar hosting mansion, leaving in her wake a mess of cosmetics, champagne flutes, and anti-depressants. Among the debris lay a pile of notebooks, each cover plastered with Lisa Frank stickers, kissy lip prints, and “Live, Laugh, Love” mottos: the diaries of the contestants chronicling their Bachelor experience. The ten women remaining on the competitive dating show were reportedly having a “mild to moderate freak out session” trying to differentiate the diaries.
Desperate, one contestant says of her diary, “It’s more than just a repository for my self-absorbed hysterics. It’s more like my friend, a true confidante. It’s not enough to talk to the camera about my feelings. Plus, it helps me not miss my cat so much.”
After a few minutes of trying to read the entries themselves, the girls called host/therapist Chris Harrison to intervene so as to preserve the privacy of each girl who regularly makes out on national television.
In a strange echo of the bachelor’s own words, Harrison said sorting out this incident is “one of the hardest things he’s had to do.” He reflected, “No really, these diaries are literally indistinguishable.”
According to Harrison and others who read the entries, all of them contained an “eerily identical narrative” describing the discovery of Sean, the bachelor who “has everything [every girl] is looking for in a husband.” Entries that began “open and ready for love,” soon became scattered collections of dramatic emotions, whose inexplicable escalation resembled that of psych-ward patients.
Alternating bouts of bliss, rage, self-assurance, and insecurity added flare to the otherwise mundane accounts of days spent poolside, daydreaming about a man who enjoys working out and leading on a dozen women at once. Common phrases in each unique love journal included “opening up,” “we just click,” “I’m not here to make friends,” “I’m gonna get that rose,” “I found my best friend,” and countless misuses of the word “literally.”
“I’m soooo glad I told him that story about my dog dying when I was six. I could tell he appreciated my vulnerability,” wrote one contestant about a four-minute conversation she had with the bachelor next to a potted plant. “We really got to a deeper level tonight. And I only cried twice!” Similar accounts were found in every journal.
In the end, Harrison distributed the diaries at random, in the format of a rose ceremony in order to keep the girls’ interest. “They’ll never know the difference,” he said.