I am HER... (72 page)

 
Admitting on another blush at my childish sounding words, “My experience with Z was just, like,
beautiful
.  Um, I'm not intentionally being ridiculous, and I'm not trying to romanticize this... but that’s all I can say.  My short time with him was beauty, happiness and passion.  I enjoyed waking to his scent, and I enjoyed sleeping in his arms for that amazingly short period of time.  Days really, but days that have held me in rapture since.  He was funny, tender, and so loving, that I miss him every minute of every day...
   “…During that small moment in time together, I didn't care what anyone thought or felt because he was with me and I was momentarily happy.  I experienced the 'novel'... the novel every woman reads and yearns for in their
real life
, knowing full well that their love will never be as it is on the pages... the novel of their craving.  I fell into that novel and sadly I was ripped from the pages before the last chapter.”

 
My tears are starting to fall slowly- Not the tears of desperation that used to fall, but rather tears of resignation.
  “I often wonder if it would have been better that I never had this experience of feeling love with Z, so I'd have nothing to miss. But then I often thank life for giving me that one brief experience... but then the sadness returns and I am filled with remorse once again for the loss of feeling... 
  “…Mack, I finally want to be touched.  I want a man who knows how to touch me.  I want hungry, loving, thrilled fingers to caress me.  I want romance and fulfillment.  I want to be held, so innocent, so completely, that my body doesn't matter.  I want a man who shudders as I do when things become too intense and pain-filled, like when the memories of my past torture me.  And I want a man who smiles and reassures me of my life
now
when the painful memories slowly fade again.  I want him to help me sleep without the screaming nightmares I still have.  I want to be touched by a hand, not looking for thrill or mere sexual gratification, but a hand that just wants to feel me breathe in and out, shallow or deep.  I want the hand to soothe and enjoy me.  I want no scars, no upset, and no pain.  I just want love in his touch…

 
“…I want him to look at me with knowing eyes.  I want to be soft and unbroken in his eyes.  I want him to
see
my eyes.  I want to care nothing of my body, with all its physical short-comings, imperfections and scars.  I want him to see no damage- I just want him to see
me.
  I want his hands to mirror the happiness and the peace in my heart, when he touches me.  I want… I want that with Z, I think.”

 
Sitting forward in my chair with my hands on my knees, I know I must look a little wild-eyed to Mack.  I’m sure he’s nervous for me.  I’m sure I’m starting to scare him, but I need to say all this.  I just need to hear it out loud.  I don’t want all this
stuff
trapped in my head any longer. 
  “When I saw his face today, I wasn’t sure if I could stop myself from hurting again, but I didn’t hurt, and I don't know why.  I know consciously and with very little effort on my part, I would never, ever hurt him intentionally.  But I don't know if I could be myself in his presence, as just a
friend
if I thought I could once again feel
something
resembling what I did feel back then
with
him.  This desire to feel with Z is like an obsession for me that I’m not sure I should have.  He’s like a craving I shouldn’t satiate.  Z is a life too big for me to live within, I think.”

  S
haking, I finally admit my truth to Mack.  “I’m just
average
, Mack.  And with that knowledge comes the reality that I was not meant for and will never have, the unbelievable love that I crave, each and every day of my life.  I am without a piece of me.  I am incomplete.   And I think I want to see if Z could be that piece for me.  But I don’t think I should, or rather, I guess I’m scared to death of trying and failing.  I just don’t think I was truly meant for this thing, this love and this
life
which I desire most.  I’m sure I wasn’t meant for the ‘happily ever after’, or for the loving calm of a loving and calm relationship.  I’m sure if I try with Z, I’ll fail, and I don’t think I can recover again from another heartbreak...
  “…I am her.  I am
me
now. 
I know
I’m Suzanne, but I’m so very different from the woman I have created in others' eyes these last few months.  She is growing strong and self-assured, but I am still the me of my youth sometimes,
as you know...
I’m still looking, craving, dreaming, and too often, still in pain.  I still want so badly the life I dreamed of- a life with romantic, consuming, peaceful love and adoration from another.”

 
Now there’s a long pause while I process my thoughts.  When Mack looks like he’s about to speak after my silence, I again shake my head no, and his movements stop.  I need to finish this.  I’m brave right now.  I’m talking freely and I want so desperately to finish this once and for all.

 
“I’m not just looking for physical gratification, Mack.  Please don’t misunderstand any of this.  It’s not about simple sex or passion, its more, I just want to
feel
again.  I am desperate to feel, so much so, that a pain has settled in my heart, so heavy, that I feel as though I have suffered the death of a love...  Um, it's so hard to explain, but I feel as though I live in a constant
mourning
... without the actual death.  I can't believe any pain can feel worse than this, well, not until I am actually proven wrong, I guess.  I know no other pain like this; not like the pain from my abusive parents, or my neglectful spouse, or even the pain caused by the men who attacked me - not this awful life I’ve had, and not the death I thought I wanted. I just know that I live each and every day with a smothering need to be, like,
free
of this pain
.
  Just for a minute, I want freedom from all this denial and memories and, and
agony
.  I want the freedom to live
average,
without feeling the weight of that very word...

 
“…I want to find Z again.  I want to have him hear me in my silence, while he calms me when I’m in pain.  I want him.  I picture him knowing how to touch me while knowing how to break into me, so that I finally exhale and stop holding my breath as I have it seems for an eternity.  I want to be
alive
and not just
living
.   I want him so badly some days, that the want
IS
the agony...
  “…God, I sound so dramatic, I know.  But it’s just so consuming, this feeling of loss. I feel like I need to scream, shaking with the pain, so that maybe that one scream and that one tear into my heart of pain and longing for Z will be enough to rip the wounds wide open, allowing me to except my fate of loveless, passionless mediocrity, so that eventually I can either heal or I can repress this need for Z,
forever..
.”

  O
nce again, sitting back in my chair, I raise my knees against my chest, and wrap my arms around myself tightly.  Looking at
my
Mack, he just nods his head as if to say ‘go for it.  Finish this.’

 
“Mack, I’ve always loved the poem ‘Porphyria’s Lover’ by Robert Browning. 
I’ve loved it
.  I remember when I was younger understanding why the lover killed Porphyria.  I understood how amazing it would be to actually have someone love you, that intensely, in that one specific moment.  I remember thinking, I too, would want to kill someone in that moment, so that I kept their love forever, just for me.  I know now,
obviously
, that that view on love is obsessive, psychotic and unhealthy.  I know that Mack, so don’t worry.  But I think when I was young, I just wanted to be loved so badly, that the lover’s actions in the poem made sense to me…

 
“…Then when I met Z, I understood the poem differently.  I understood the ugliness of the poem.  I saw Z struggling, as I was at the time, and I realized
I
would want to die if I was ever loved as thoroughly as the lover believed he was at the time by Porphyria.  And yes, I know that is a sick,
crazy
way to view love, but it’s the truth nonetheless.  I’m not saying I want to die anymore, and I’m not saying it’s okay to want to die, just because you are loved.  I’m just saying that when I saw Z looking at me like he
did
love me completely and totally when I thought I was going to die, I actually wanted to die then, in that exact moment, so that Z’s love would be the very last memory I carried with me into death.  I understood needing love so badly, that I could actually kill myself to hold onto that memory of love,
forever
.”  Long
exhale.

 
I find my arms still wrapped so tightly around my knees, and staring at the safety I have in Mack, I take a few deep breaths and continue.

 
“I'm begging you to help me, Mack.  I know this is horrible, and selfish, and disgusting... but I'm
begging
you to help me.  I'm begging you to tell me what to do, so that I can breathe again.”

 
Now I’m openly crying.  There is no way to stop it.  Everything just hurts, everywhere.

 
“I'm so sorry, Mack.  I'm so sorry to put this on you, but I'm begging you to help me get better.  I don't want to feel like shit anymore, and I don't want to cry about this anymore, alone in my bed,
way too often
to even admit to myself.  I wouldn't ask this from you if there was another person that I
could
ask, but there isn’t anyone else, so I’m asking
you
.  You’re the only one I trust with my life.  You’re the only person I trust to tell me what to do.  Help me to get over myself, or...tell me to shut-up.  Tell me to grow up.  Tell me to fuck off once and for all.  Just tell me something!  Do I beg Z to love me, or do I stop all this shit, and move on forever?  I can’t think anymore.  I have no capacity to reason anything anymore when Z is involved.  Please Mack. 
Please.
TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"

 
Ooops.
  That last sentence sounded a little manic, and yet the rest was awesome… figures I’d ruin the moment. 
Dammit.
  "Sorry for yelling..."

  T
here seems to be a complete pause to everything in the room.  Even the air itself doesn’t seem to exist.  There is nothing but total silence from Mack as he just stares at me for a minute. 
Shit

 
Turning his head away from me, Mack expels a large breath, shakes his head slightly, and after placing his mug on Kayla's coffee table, he finally turns back to look at me.   Oh my god! Mack has tears in his eyes. SHIT!

 
"MACK!  I'm so
SORRY!
"

 
"Suzanne…
enough.
  Sit there.  Shut up.  And listen to me." 
What?
  "Just breathe and Listen. To. Me."
  "
Okay...."
   Gulp. 
Shit.
  Breathe Suzanne.  Mack won't hurt you.
  "I'm a man
, as you know
, so I'm not prone to cry, however, what you just said to me and asked of me, is the single most beautiful, desperate, eloquent thing I have ever heard.  If you had not already broken my heart months ago for the life you were forced to endure as a child, you would have broken it just now with that confession.  You are honesty, the most
feeling,
non-jaded
victim of circumstances BEYOND HER CONTROL that I have ever met in my life.  You are absolutely beautiful; and you make me want to live better, and love harder, just by knowing you.  You are an absolute
dream,
Suzanne.  And if we were two different people, I would love you like you desire for the rest of my life.  But we are
not
two different people, so I can't love you the way you desire, or the way you DESERVE.  You are absolutely
astounding
to me... “ Mack says with a small smile while gently wiping his eyes with his thumbs.

 
“Suzanne, listen to me closely… Z loves you like you desire
and
like you deserve.  I have had to counsel him for months because he has been absolutely lost since you walked into his life.  He has been struggling and suffering every single day since you asked him to leave your hospital room months ago.  He has been desperate to love you since the moment he met you,
and
since the moment you asked him to leave you.  Z has been asking about you and
for
you every single day since you pushed him away.  Suzanne, Z is desperately in love with you, and he wants to be everything for you.  The only thing holding him back from loving you was
you.
"
  "But, Z..."
  "I'm not finished.  So please be still, breathe, and just listen to me.”
  "Okay.  Sorry..."