Look, I love Catherine Earnshaw with the fiery passion of a fangirl who owns three different editions of the book. But her death is a masterclass in how not to handle emotional turmoil. She starves herself, isolates herself, and refuses to communicate with anyone who actually cares about her (hello, Edgar and Nelly).
So next time you’re feeling angsty after a breakup, please eat a sandwich. Call a friend. Don’t walk out in a thunderstorm without a coat. Because Catherine’s ghost might be haunting the moors, but you? You’ve got better options. And maybe, just maybe, a less dramatic ending.
