Daily Archives: December 21, 2003

Went to the Dickens’s Faire with Barbara yesterday. The faire itself was alright, alot of the same merchandise, games, and people that populate the Renaissance Faire. I’m not that big on Dickens in the first place, I read Oliver Twist and A Tale of Two Cities, but they never did anything for me. And being with Barbara, I knew that I would moving at a slower pace, which I didn’t mind at all. So Barbara and I were sitting down next to the tea house. And that’s where the breakdown began.
One minute I was talking to Barbara, and then the next minute I was looking for Suzanne. Like I felt her presence close to me or something. And I just froze up and started to panic; enough that Barbara thought that I had seen a ghost. I recovered, but for the rest of the day I was so unnerved. I tried to calm myself down and enjoy the faire, but all I could do is look around and search for her. At one point, Barbara and I were suppose to be watching a play, but I must have spent more time looking out into the crowd, waiting to see if Suzanne would walk by. Towards the end of the night, I asked Laura if Suzanne was working the faire. It was at this point that my nerves were worked up to the point where I had to leave the faire and go to my car to cry and calm them down. I composed myself long enough to go back into the faire to see the Halleluiah chorus (the point of us staying until the end of the faire), and then to drive Barbara and I back home. Once home, I didn’t know what to do or who to call or anything. Eventually, I decided the best thing was to cry myself to sleep and let exhaustion take over me.
I am still in love with her, and I can hear all my friends tell me that “it will get better soon”, “you need to move on”, “she wasn’t right for you anyway’, etc, etc. And yet I can’t move on. I don’t want to move on, or am I afraid to move on. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I shouldn’t be getting panic attacks just because I thought I “felt” Suzanne at the Dickens Faire. I’m not even sure that she was there at all. Am I loosing my sanity? Well, what’s left of it to loose. Why can’t I just unshackle myself from the chains of her ghost; free myself of the memories of a love that was once there. Why do I want to free myself of those memories? Would that solve everything if I just got rid of everything. What if I deleted all of the pictures and IM messages that I have of her. What if I burned the sketches that I have of her’s? What if I sold the car that she help me buy? What if I deleted all of my journal entries that relate to her? If I erased every memory that I have of her, would that solve everything.
I should be happy that she is happy, right? I mean, if I was the one thing that was making her sad and hurting her in her life, then the thing to do is to stop being in her life, right? I should be happy that I am not hurting her anymore, right? I should be happy that she is happy with me hurting her. I should be happy that there might be someone else that is making her happy that is not me.
My mind is my most dangerous enemy. All of these thoughts swirl around in it and just confuse and torment me, both the good thoughts and the bad thoughts. The good thought just tease me with the replaying events, thoughts, sounds, smells, touches, and sights that I will not experience again. the negative ones are even wilder…Like there is one that questions the reason that Suzanne broke up with me is because I beat her. Like I wonder if I have a 2nd or 3rd personality that was abusive and use to beat her. Silly thought because I wouldn’t do something like that. The though of it just sickens me, and I’m sure if I did do something like that, that I would still be recovering from the beating that any number of her friends would have given me. Still, the thought swirls in my head.
I wish that I could accept that I’m not the man that she wants. I wish that I could accept it like I accepted the fact that I was not the man for Kathy and that I’m not the man for April. I wish that I could set aside the memories, and move on with myself. But I think that I wish more that I could be the man that she wants; the man that she needs. I wish that I could be the man that she gives her love too.