Not a hell of a lot happened today: I woke up late and missed two classes, had a greasy cheeseburger for lunch with Mike at Burger King, and unsuccessfully attempted to take a nap this afternoon. Aforementioned unsuccessful nap caused some unnecessary grogginess, which led to me maybe failing a test in Geology, after which I watched a couple episodes of "Daria" on MTV. Thrilling day, enh?
So I'm not going to talk about my day. I'm going to talk about Suzanne.
Because I just began this journal, I guess I have to back up a few years and give a brief lecture on my life's history... At the beginning of the school year in 1997, I started dating this guy named Erich. We'd known each other since first grade, and had been attracted to each other for the simple reason that we were the intellectuals of our school. Well, Erich, myself and Jayden were the intellectuals of the school. And kind of the outcasts, too. Okay, we were the outcasts. But that's beside the point. Well, Erich had a crush on me, and went out and bought everything Tori Amos ever did just to impress me, and we ended up dating.
Erich was my first real boyfriend, unless you count a slight mishap with a kinda-pedophile-dude when I was 14. He drove me up the freaking walls, but I thought boyfriends were supposed to do that. He was very patronizing, and very possessive, and his mother was a mega-bitch-from-the-pits-of-hell. Nonetheless, we spent the better part of nine months together - we were each other's first sexual experiences; we were in the school musical together, even though he couldn't sing for dick; he sat by my side daily when I got gastritis and couldn't eat for two weeks. He took me to his late-night extra-credit classes at the college (I still have his textbook); we shared coffee in the high school lobby during lunch because neither of us had any desire to eat in the cafeteria with the "preps."
He drove me home from school every evening. I sat in the passeneger's seat, and about fifteen freshman outcasts sat in the backseat, delighted that upperclassmen were driving them home. We usually had the soundtrack to "Rocky Horror" in the tape deck... And once the little freshman-losers were safely tucked into their homes, he'd change the tape and play Leonard Cohen until we got to my house. My favorite song was "Famous Blue Raincoat," and his was "Suzanne."
Erich cheated on me during his 17th birthday party that year with a mutual friend of ours. He justified it by saying that I had had previous experience with the opposite sex, and it was now his god-given right to explore just as much as I had... (Not that I'd had MUCH previous experience, mind you!) So we fought about that for awhile, and finally broke up. It wasn't just the cheating thing, though - not by a long shot. There were the teasing spankings he'd give me to humiliate me, the constant reminders that I wasn't as good a student as he was, the jealousy he had of Peter, oh a million things... A month later, I was in David's arms, passionately aware of all I'd been missing with Erich: closeness, intimacy, and the kind of love and maturity I'd been hoping for...
When David broke up with me (which is an entirely different story), Erich laughed at me, ignoring the fact that I was utterly heart-broken. He laughed at me for falling in with a so-called "vampire cult," and told me I belonged in a mental institution. As one final insult, he began dating my friend Julie, who immediately began finding fault with everything I did. I began to hate him. OH, I hated him! We stopped speaking. I didn't even want to look at him. All the things we'd shared, other than our favorite coffeehouse, were no longer a part of either of our lives. It's still weird to listen to "Rocky Horror" sometimes.
We'd planned to go to the same college before we'd broken up: The College of Santa Fe. He'd study film, and I'd study creative writing. I'd nearly forgotten it until I saw him on orientation day.
I don't know why I'm taking this day to reminisce about him. Certainly, any romantic feelings I had for him are forgotten now, never to be recovered. I cannot even feel any affection for him now: not after turning him in twice to the dean of students for sexual harassment, and having my boss turn him in for stalking.
He has a girlfriend here. Her name is Suzanne. Just like the Leonard Cohen song. (I have a link to the lyrics right here , and it's worth checking out, because it is beautiful...) What can I say about Suzanne? I don't know her very well. We had a class together last semester: she was a royal suck-up, and I sat at the other end of the room silently earning my "A." She brought Erich's coffee thermos to class with her a few times: there's no way I'll ever forget that thing and the awful coffee he used to drink out of it. She uses his brand of mechanical pencils, too, I noticed one day.
I swear in the name of everything sacred that I am not in love with Erich. I never was in love with Erich. And I certainly am not jealous of his girlfriend. I wouldn't go back out with him if he was the last man on earth, and I DO mean that. But still, there's something in me that forces me to watch her in a different way than I would anyone else. I mean, you don't just notice someone's mechanical pencil from across the room, right?
A year and a half have passed since I last professed any sort of love for Erich. At least two years have passed since I FELT any love for Erich, although all of that is difficult to recall now. So why do I feel so weird around Suzanne? Someone else is now holding that coffee thermos. Someone else is now using his mechanical pencils. Someone else kisses him goodnight now. Maybe someone else is even sleeping next to him tonight... I don't really want to speculate THAT much about their relationship, but... but... it's still weird... Because *I* used to be that someone. I used to have something with him, even if it did suck. And in all honesty, we did have our good moments: like when we used to sing "Suzanne" together on the way home after school...
Always,
Helena*
"...Now Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river. She is wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters. And the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbour, and she shows you where to look among the garbage and the flowers. There are heroes in the seaweed, there are children in the morning - they are leaning out for love, and they will lean that way forever..." --"Suzanne," by Leonard Cohen