Black Book Diary Entry: SuebyPositiveThinker©
Did you ever see a woman and know by how she looked, talked, walked, and acted that she was the one and that you were madly in love with her? Love at first sight. Did you ever see a woman and know by how she looked, talked, walked, and acted that she was out of your league and unattainable? Out of my league.
That was the paradox of my bittersweet thoughts the first time I saw Sue. The yin and yang of it. Love at first sight and out of my league. She was my disconnect from my heart to my head. Only, I wish I had known then what I know now about her.
So, what do I do now? Do I do nothing but secretly and abnormally dwell on the image of her and pine over her, as would a love sick puppy? Or do I leave the candle of hope burning that she'll notice me again, as she once did, and want me and love me, while making a complete fool of myself in trying to win her heart? Or do I accept the reality of it now and realize that she'll never notice me again, and want me and love me, and save my sanity and soothe my tortured psyche with alcohol and dark chocolate, while watching sad, chick flick movies?
"She loves me. She loves me not."
Having had her once, do I now forget about her and continue on with my heartbroken life without her, knowing how wonderful it could have been with her by my side, as it once was, albeit but for a brief moment in time? When you see the most delicious and juicy piece of fruit dangling before you from a branch within your reach, it's impossibly difficult not to want to grab it and take a bite, as did Adam when Eve offered him the apple of life.
Only, as a human, it's impossibly difficult to understand that someone like her wouldn't be interested in someone like me. Why not? She was once. What happened? What's wrong with me now that she doesn't want me anymore? As I discovered later, a more appropriate question would have been, what's wrong with her?
I'm certainly better than some of the ones that she was with and kicked to the curb, no doubt. Yeah, sure, it's obvious for others to see that we weren't meant for one another, but I'm biased in my favor and with my chances of landing her. I actually thought I might have a chance with her. I'm such a fool.
I wish I had enough good sense and self-control to just walk away as Rhett Butler did when he finally left Scarlett O'Hara for good. Sue was my Scarlett, only I wasn't her Rhett, not by a long shot. As far as she was concerned, I was Claude Raines in H. G. Wells' Invisible Man.
"Hello? Here I am. I'm over here."
Much like Jamie Conway in Jay McInerney's Bright Lights, Big City, the smell of freshly baked bread made him ache with desire for life over death, albeit a normal life, a life without the dreaded, convoluted, and poisonous one-sided love of his jet setting model of a wife, Amanda. Somehow, I imagine Christie Brinkley playing the role of Amanda, a cold, unfeeling, self-centered bitch of a woman, pretty on the outside and ugly on the inside. There's one broad who must have made a pact with the Devil. She'd win an Oscar just by playing herself.
'Tis such a sad refrain, only, I didn't know that about Sue, yet. I didn't know she was just as cold and just as insensitive and uncaring and unfeeling as Amanda and as I imagined Christie Brinkley to be. I didn't know she was evil. I didn't know she was a witch who had cast a lovesick spell over me.
A starving man hungry for food, the smell of the freshly baked bread wafting from the bakery was a similar sensation to how I felt about Sue, uncontrollable, undeniable, and have to have her type of yearning. She was my bread and I was a man hungry for her love. Only, unable to see clearly, I didn't know the bread had gone bad. I didn't know the bread was poisoned.
All I knew was that she was beautiful and was someone who I couldn't resist. I only knew how much I wanted her. How was I to know for a young woman so full of life that she was so dead and so evil inside?
Blinded by her outside appearance, her beauty, her wit, and her charm, I didn't see her for who she was. All the signs were there and had I known I would have worn a strand of garlic around my neck and carried a shiny cross.
"Be gone demon! Stay away!"
I just couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that someone who was this gorgeous was so detached, unfeeling, mean, and evil. The piece she needed to love and to feel love was missing. What happened to her? Why is she like this?
Without having the key to her heart in my possession, she was a shiny red Ferrari that I couldn't drive. As if she stood poised behind bulletproof and soundproof glass, as if she was an optical illusion, or someone from another dimension, a hologram, even though I could taste her, see her, smell her, hear her, and touch her, I couldn't have her.
"But why can't I have her? I had her once. We made love. She must have loved me then. Why doesn't she love me now?"
Nonetheless, I couldn't believe how extraordinarily beautiful she was, but it was more than that. In the way she looked at me, as if her eyes were lasers that pierced my heart, made me dizzy, and weakened my knees. Much in the way, when you drive 100 miles per hour and have tunnel vision, that is the way that I looked upon Sue. No one else on the street existed, just her. Hers was the only voice that I heard.
No one else could see what I saw and hear what I heard. Was I insane? Was I hexed? Has this woman cast a spell over me that made me lovesick for her? Is she a witch?
I remember the first time I met her. She was in an alleyway and as I approached, I heard her say.
"Roses are red and violets are blue, although I'm dead, you'll think I love you," she said.
Only, what I heard was.
"Roses are red and violets are blue, not what I said, you'll think I said Sue."
"Hi," she said. "I'm Ruth, but everyone calls me Bucket. Bucket is my street name," she said with a laugh.
Even though she said her name was Ruth and that everyone called her Bucket, I distinctly heard her say her name was Sue.
"Hi Sue. I'm so pleased to meet you."
She took my hand and smiled a satisfied smile. I imagined us standing at the altar with the priest waiting for me to utter the words that would then allow him to say, "I now pronounce you man and wife."
"I do," I blurted. "I do have the pleasure of meeting you. The pleasure is all mine," I quickly corrected myself without having her realize that there was something so wrong with me, which there was.
I was in love with her. Love at first sight, it hit me hard. Never have I met anyone who has made me feel this way. Willing to give up everything that I own and everything that I worked so hard to amass for a chance to run away with Sue. I was a married man, after all, with the ball and chain attached to my ankle. How dare I lust over this beautiful single woman? Where did she come from, even? She just appeared.
I knew she was out of my league, only I didn't realize how far out she was. By her outside appearance, once talking to her, she was just as advertised, someone special. Had I known then what I know now about her, I would have sought professional help to make me regain my sanity and forget her. She was the woman who would haunt me for the rest of my life in the way that Scarlett O'Hara vexed Rhett Butler, Juliet beguiled Romeo, and Dolcinea consumed Don Quixote.
Nonetheless, I still thought about her, dreamt about her, fantasized about her, and lusted after her, even though I knew I could never, ever have her and even though she wronged me. Yeah, well, I did have her once and I thought she was mine, which is how this all began.
I spent a wild night with Sue, right there in the alleyway. Only, I thought it was an alleyway, but it wasn't an alleyway. It was a beautiful hotel suite and I had sex with her on a king-sized bed.
She allowed me remove her clothes and have my way with her. She had a beautiful body, the best body I've ever seen. It was as if she could have read my mind and given me the body that I fantasized having sex with. We had sex, the best sex that I ever had in my life. We did everything. She took me around the world. Only, once I had sex with her, once it was over, and once I gave her all the passion I felt and all the love I had, she wanted nothing to do with me.
Weeks later, I'd sometimes see her on the street and follow her. As if she could fly and disappear in thin air, I could never seem to catch her up with her. Yet, one day, I did.
"Sue! Wait! Sue. Hold up. Finally. Sue, it's so good to see you." I couldn't believe what I was going to say next and it even surprised me when I did say it, "I love you."
"Go away you fool. My name's not Sue. It's Ruth, you moron. Everyone calls me Bucket. Now scram. Beat it. Get lost. My spell was only supposed to last twenty-four hours, you idiot. Who knew you'd be so susceptible? I was horny, then, and I'm not now. Now, I just want you to go away."
Then, when I wouldn't leave, when I persisted and grabbed her around her waist, she stopped and turned finally.
"Sue. I love you," I said reaching out and taking her in my arms, while trying to kiss her. She struggled, but I figured she was just playing hard to get.
"Roses are red and violets are blue, send me the head of the men in blue." she said.
I thought she was reciting me a love poem. Only, the sirens that I heard made me wonder what was happening. That was when a police captain and two of his men grabbed me and arrested me.
"Hey, stop, what are you doing?"
"This man raped me, officer. He thinks I'm someone named Sue. He's crazy."
Now confined in this rubber room no one will listen to my story. No one will believe me.
"Help! Let me out of here!"
"The doctor will see you now," said an orderly unlocking my door.
"Doctor, thank God. There's been a tragic mistake. The police took me off the street and put me in here. Can you remove this straight jacket? It's a little binding in the crotch. Where am I?"
"You're in the county hospital for the criminally insane."
"I'm not insane."
"You raped an old woman. You had forcible sex, against her will, with an old bag lady, a woman named Ruth, who goes by the name of Bucket. You insisted her name was Sue. Here's a picture of her," said the doctor looking up at me. "Do you see how old this woman is? Although she carried no identification, we assumed by her appearance that she's in her late seventies."
"That's not the woman I had sex with. The woman I had sex with was beautiful and willing. If I had sex with this woman, then she tricked me to have sex with her. She's a witch I tell you. She's evil. She cast a spell over me. Yeah, that's it. She cast a lovesick spell on me. She made me fall in love with her. I want my lawyer. Get me out of here this instant. Help! Someone help me! I'm being held against my will. Help!"
"Take him back to his room orderly and have the nurse give him his medication."
"No! Wait! I can explain. She's a witch, I tell you. She put a spell on me. I'm innocent. I'm not crazy."
"Get him out of here," said the doctor.