by Simmons, NC
So where do I start? How about I start with some good news? Hmmm… Good news…? Whither the good news…?
Well, this is good news! I’m still totally in love with Lenore! No question. My Freaky Baby is still alive inside Lenore’s head. Freaky Baby is still my superhero of love. She seems like she’s back to earth and she’s still TOTALLY hot! Those eyes. That megawatt smile. That HUGE heart. That totally scrumptious body!
(Yep. Gianni Sardi’s baby girl still gets naked every night with a freaky supermodel. Not too shabby.)
Okay. That’s the good news. Now here’s the bad news. Now that I know about Mrs. Hyde, I walk around doubting myself all the time. Mrs. Hyde came out of Lenore a leeetle too easily. I’m walking on eggshells, worrying about every stupid little thing possibly setting her off. I really shouldn’t worry about it, because she’s not that fragile, but I do.
Every time I remember how easy it was for Dr. De La Fuente to turn into Mrs. Hyde it makes me slow down a step. I don’t think Mrs. Hyde will ever pay us another visit, but the lingering beat of her ‘Tell-Tale Heart' gnaws at me. Thankfully, my fear of Mrs. Hyde becomes a little less rebarbative with each passing each day.
(Yeah, I did it! I used a big word! Yet more proof I went to HAH-vahd. So sue me, you lame-brained ledger!)
Just in case, though, I checked in with my girlfriends over at the NRA and picked up a carry permit for the DSM-III.
(Not THAT ‘NRA,’ silly. I’m talking about the ‘Nymphomaniac Recovery Agency.’)
Lenore can tell I’m still afraid of Mrs. Hyde. Even though she has no memory of what she did, she’s going out of her way to show me just how much she loves me and how devoted she is to making sure the Missus never drops by for another visit. I don't think Freaky Baby ever kissed and hugged me and held me quite as often, or for no good reason, as she has since Mrs. Hyde made her Broadway debut.
As far as Lenore is concerned, she thinks she’s totally back to normal, no therapy needed. She thinks her ‘superior intellect' and my love are all it will take to keep Mrs. Hyde locked away. She dumped all the contractions from her speech and she’s back to wearing her totally normal (for a frigging supermodel, that is), ultra-sexy, WAY-expensive, Shalamar rags.
Mercifully, my super-hottie sweetie still has the leather in the wardrobe, but she only takes it out for sexy time with me, not the street.
(Another note to self. My GOD that woman’s smokin’ body and bronze coloring were custom made for black leather and stripper shoes! Mee-OW!)
So for Lenore, it’s like nothing ever happened. In fact, Lenore doesn’t seem to remember anything of what she said to me, not even the stuff she first remembered right after it happened. It’s like her mind is a total blank slate about the whole incident. She remembers that ‘something’ happened, and she believes me when I tell her that she begged me to beat her by saying all kinds of hurtful stuff to me, but that’s it.
Thank God she doesn’t remember the beating. It would scare the hell out of her.
But I remember it. Every time I look at Lenore’s beautiful ass and the lingering bruise on her lower back I remember every blow. For my benefit she tries to hide the fact that she’s still in pain every day, especially in her shoulders. But I see her wince every time she picks up a bag with her left arm. She even has trouble cuddling me with her left arm because it still hurts so much.
I did that to her. I seriously fucked up my Freaky Baby. I injured her. I hate myself every time I see her wince like that.
I still can’t get the memory of that beating out of my mind. I have nightmares about it every night. I see myself beating Lenore, over and over again. Sometimes I have flashbacks about that sick thought I had of shoving a knife through her neck and it horrifies me. Did I imagine that because I’ll never get over my Psycho 16? Or did I think about that because I’m a monster and a sicko? Should I just turn myself into the police for the good of humanity?
Sometimes at night I wake up screaming and crying, reliving that experience like a freaking Spielberg epic. When I do, Lenore grabs me, cuddles me, kisses me, strokes through my hair, and shushes me back to sleep like my mommy. She whispers stuff like, ‘I love you, Wild Child,’ and, ‘It is okay, Wild Child, I am here for you,’ and ‘I am never leaving you, Wild Child.'
I get a sexy shiver every time she calls me ‘Wild Child.’ I just love that freaky supermodel so much!
“In other news…” We’re back to sleeping the way we did at Paulson. I don't know how Lenore figured it out, because I didn’t ask her to do this, but she instinctively knows that I need to feel her love me at the end of each day. Right after I beat her up she opened her arms and had me snuggle in for the night. I think it was her way of saying, 'It’s okay, Lena. I still trust you.’ And that’s the way we've been sleeping ever since. Nothing says love like pressing my ear to Lenore’s chest and hearing her superwoman heart beating just for me.
Oh yeah… And when I’m not snuggling my head up against Lenore’s chest, we’re both snuggling our heads up against St. Hunky’s chest. Lenore must have told Rory how messed up I feel, because when we’re not sleeping together here, we’re sleeping with Rory there. They both insist on it. They don’t make me feel like a third wheel at all. If I’m not in Lenore’s arms, then Lenore and I are both in St. Hunky’s arms. If Lenore’s away, then I get Rory all to myself.
I really love those two. They make me feel safe and a lot less alone.
So where does all that leave me? As Doctor Mandravian said, ‘So tell me how you feel, Lee-NAH?’
Let’s see…
I am totally, madly, unconditionally in love with my Freaky Baby. In a sick way, I think nearly killing Lenore made me realize just how precious she is to me. Lenore is… I think… Even more precious to me than my own screwed up life.
And I know Lenore is totally, madly, unconditionally in love with me. I’ve never known another woman who so completely gives herself to someone she loves.
And I totally forgive my Freaky Baby. Whatever happened, it was beyond her control. That was the trauma talking, not my Freaky Baby.
And even though Mrs. Hyde took a chainsaw to my heart with stuff I told Freaky Baby in confidence, I still trust Freaky. She’s never shared any of that stuff with anyone else, just that goddamned, motherfucking, psycho bitch Mrs. Hyde.
But I DO NOT trust Mrs. Hyde. And now that I know what she looks like, I have an APB out on that bitch.
And I don’t trust The Beast. Lenore has her eye out for that ugly bitch, too. I’ve been teaching Freaky some self-defense moves just in case. (Rug burns are a bitch.)
And I guess I have more questions now than answers. Is there still stuff brewing in Lenore’s crock pot head that could blow sky high someday if someone accidentally turns up the heat? Do I really have ‘The Beast’ under lock and key again, or am I just a ticking time bomb who ought to be locked up in prison for everyone’s safety? And what about Rory? Does he realize just how dangerous all this bondage shit is for his future wife? Does he know just how fragile Lenore is? Is it really a good thing for ‘The Mistress’ to whack around the staff with her brains hanging out of her ears? And how do I tell Rory about what really happened between Lenore and me without meddling in something that’s Lenore’s to handle? If I talked to Rory about this without her permission she’d never trust me again.
I guess I’m kind of frightened, Diary. No… Let’s be real. I AM frightened! I don't know where any of this is going. It could get better overnight and be a forgotten nightmare tomorrow. It could also get worse in a split second and make a living Hell for all of us.
All I know is that I love Lenore so much… Now I’m the one having panic attacks whenever we’re apart. I would lay down my life for that psychotic, erotic, superslut in a New York minute. I wouldn’t think twice if it meant jumping in front of a bus to save my baby girl. And I know she would do the same thing for me. She sacrifices for me every day, doing everything in her power to rebuild our trust and dump every ounce of her
love into my totally fucked up head and heart.
God help us all. I think we’re all pretty sick in the head but none of us really wants to admit it.
Oh well… Maybe Rory won’t ask Lenore to marry him. Maybe he’ll realize just how screwed up Freaky Baby is, get scared off, and Lenore and I will be stuck with each other forever, messed up nympho heads and all.
Or…
Maybe I’m actually Pam Ewing and all of this is a dream!
Yeah, that’s it! I’ll wake up from all this and I’ll... be right back in my old bedroom in Baltimore, back there in my old house with Momma, Daddy, Grandma Sardi, and my life-sized posters of Billie Jean, Shawny C., and my sexy ass.
Nah. That kind of shit only happens in sci-fi.
With all my totally screwed-up love,
Lena