"So when you say 'of course' about sex I want to punch you in the face for being so blasé about it because I don’t think you to truly understand what a gift that is between you. Suzanne doesn't have the ability to deal with anything sexual. Period. She rarely even talks about it. But with you she not only talks, but she actively participates. She wants to be with you sexually. She likes being with you sexually. Do you understand now?"
"Yes," I exhale as another goddamn reality smacks me upside the head.
"That is the biggest trust Suzanne can give you. Right there, Z. She has sex with you and she not only likes it, but she wants it with you because she believes you're safe for her because she loves and trusts you. And also because for whatever reason she finds you attractive," he says like a smartass as we both burst out laughing.
Smiling, I'll admit, "I like knowing she finds me attractive. I want to be attractive to her. And I've always loved the way she looks at me when we're together. Almost like I was her whole world or something."
"You are," Mack nods but the air changes a little around us again.
Shaking my head as we stare at each other, I admit where we're at now. "I really don't think I am. I'm pretty sure Suzanne's world is one of darkness, which I’ll never be a part of. She doesn't want me to be a part of her world, Mack. She told me."
"How?"
"In our room before she was taken away and in her letter," I exhale as the pain returns.
"Can I see these suicide letters I've heard about? I assume you still have them. Would you let me read them?"
"Of course," I say and stop myself when I stand. ‘Of course’ seems too casual an expression suddenly for anything Suzanne.
Walking to the bedroom, I realize that expression can't be used with Suzanne anymore. I know that now. I think I took things with us for granted just a little. I assumed sex with me was okay for her because it was between us, and we've always had a strong sexual connection. I never really understood how intense that connection would be for her though. And it changes things for me.
Remembering the tentative movements, or the fear she'd suddenly get didn't necessarily irritate me, but I didn't quite understand how she could still feel nervous with me. I thought because I told her I didn't care about the scars or her past she should just accept my words and move on. I was patient, but inside I was always waiting for her to just get naked with me and have sex like she wanted to, without the initial love and emotional softness I always gave her first to get her in the right mood.
I think I thought she would one day just be sexually open or maybe real with me, but now I realize that’ll probably never happen. If she can't even have a physical without losing her shit, I don't know that she'll ever be sexually free, and knowing that is better for me then naively believing she would one day come around.
In all honesty, I don't mind the loving and emotional softness first. I actually like it because Suzanne looks at me with those eyes of hers and with her little smile and I feel like the big man around her. I like it when I've soothed her nerves and made her hungry for me. I like pleasing her and being pleased by her.
So I have a lifetime of telling my wife she's beautiful and sexy and awesome for me. It's the truth, whether she ever actually believes me or not.
Taking the letters from my makeshift sock drawer, I immediately see the difference between them as my hands start to shake again.
4 of the letters are crisp and barely touched because there was little point and I didn't care enough to reread them. Mack's letter is a little more used and there is a smudge on his name that couldn't be helped.
But it's my letter that screams the loudest. It's bent, and crinkled, and covered in tear stains actually. Like a fucking pansy, I held the goddamn letter all night Friday as I drank and cried and said goodbye to her.
I said goodbye because I can’t keep living like this, and I said goodbye because I don't think she will keep living like this.
I didn't know what else to do, so I read and drank and read some more until I eventually passed out to wake the next morning disgusted with myself and the letter.
And then I put it in the drawer and I haven't looked at it since.
Returning back to the living room, Mack hasn't moved from his chair. He's waiting and I think I actually want him to finally understand where she's at, and where we're at together. I need Mack to understand so he either helps her love, or helps me let her go. Maybe I need him for both of us at this point.
"Here," I pass over all but mine as I sit on the couch and chug another gulp of scotch. I doubt I can do this sober, and quite frankly I don't want to.
When Mack reads the letter addressed to 'Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont' he actually laughs which surprises me.
"Well, that was abrupt and horrible," he laughs again shaking his head, before reading her grandfather’s next. I'm not sure how he'll read them, maybe in the same order of importance I thought they were, but it doesn't really matter. Mack will simply read them and understand where she's at.
"Have you read all these?"
"Yes. Just once."
"Even mine?" He asks with a smirk.
"Yeah. Sorry," I shrug. "I needed to know how serious she was, and saying goodbye to you seemed really important."
"I understand," he nods before starting Chicago Kayla's letter with a grin. "Kayla would love this fabulous comment," he smiles, and I don't understand his reaction.
Mack is too calm, almost enjoying the letters or something. Okay, maybe not enjoying them, but he's not freaking out or pissed off or acting like a guy reading about a woman who is saying goodbye to the people she loves for the last time.
Opening his Kayla's letter, Mack smiles, which just confuses me more. "Kayla would be totally pissed at how short her letter is," Mack says with a little laugh. "Oh, but she'd love the best friends and sister comment."
"Mack, why are you acting like this?" I finally blurt out as the confusion of his callousness makes me angrier by the second. "I thought you loved her?" I nearly yell.
"Just let me finish, okay?" He asks so calmly my anger grows stronger. I don't fucking understand what's happening here.
Watching Mack read his own letter, he smiles sometimes, and shakes his head at others. He even smirks once like this is the best thing he's ever read, and I don't fucking get it.
"I did nothing wrong. There's the guilt she always feels and doesn't want anyone else to feel." Still reading, he pauses for a second. "A good actress?" Mack laughs but before I can speak he adds, "Yeah, okay. If actresses were terrible at acting maybe."
Watching Mack read his letter, I find I'm stunned seeing his expressions and smiles as he reads. But when I finally see his smile fade I know he's at the end.
"Of course you want some peace, Suzanne," he whispers to no one and I feel the pain of her truth rip through my chest again.
"I'm her greatest gift, Z, besides you. And I'm still her person," Mack smiles at me still sitting here like a stunned jackass.
"I don't understand your reaction at all. You don't even seem to care, Mack," I can't help accuse.
"Oh, I care, Z. Very much. But we're not through yet. I would like you to read your letter to me."
"I can't," I whisper.
"Yes, you can. Honor Suzanne's final letter and read it to me." Shaking my head, I put the letter on the table between us and say no again. "Why can't you?"
"Because I can't. It's..."
"Too painful? Yes, I understand that. But I want to watch you read her letter to you."
"No."
"No?"
"I'm not doing it. I don't know what fucking game you're playing at, but I'm not doing this with you. This isn't about me anymore. It's about her."
"It's always about Suzanne. Isn't it, Z?"
"Yes," I say before I can stop myself. Shit. I know what that sounded like, but I didn't mean it like that. "What I mean is, these letters are about her saying goodbye."
"Yes, they are. But they're also about Suzanne as
usual. It's always about Suzanne and her drama, right? Suzanne's crazy, and Suzanne's shit as usual. Everything about the 2 of you is about Suzanne's shit all the time, isn't it? Tell me, Z. I know it is, and you know it is, so why not just admit it. She's not here and she can't hear you and she'll never know what you said, so just say it. It's always about Suzanne and her shit, right? Just say it!"
"Fine! Fuck yeah. It's always her fucking shit between us and around us killing us always. Fucking always!" I yell before stopping quickly on a gasp.
"Very good. Now pick up her letter and read it to me, Z. Now," Mack demands again. And for some reason I can't understand anymore, I pick up her stupid bullshit letter and read out loud.
Dear Z,
I love you very, very much though I'm sure you don't believe me right now. But I do. Hopefully one day, you will believe me.
I won't say I'm doing this for you, because even though that is a small part of it, it's not the majority. Mostly, I'm doing this for me. When they say it's not you it's me, there are no truer words for us. This is all me this time. I’ve decided and I am making the choice I didn't have when I was young. I'm making the choice to stop everything like I wish I could have done before. This is ALL me, Z.
I'm just so tired all the time now, and I don't want to be tired around you anymore. I don't want to be sad and confused and crazy any more around you. It's not fair to you, and it's not the life you should have to live. You are way too good to be trapped in this life with me.
Shaking my head, I realize how much I hate it when she says that. She acts like I'm some asshole who thinks or acts like he's better than her. She talks about me being trapped like she trapped me. Like I actually could be trapped. No one can trap me. I'm too strong for that.
Looking at Mack, I say with nothing short of irritation in my voice, "There she goes again, taking the decision away from me to be with her like she forced it somehow. Or like I'm too weak to make the decision to be with her on my own because she trapped me into it."
Nodding, Mack motions for me to continue.
Z, I want you to know I love you more than I've ever known love could be, and way more than I thought was even possible for me. Waking with you each day gave me a reason to fight for my future, and sleeping beside you each night gave me a reason to fight the nightmares of my past. Being with you has been the greatest joy of my life, because you have been the greatest gift I've ever known. You are my gift, Z, and I will hold you forever- just not here in this life any longer.
Scoffing, I can't even hold it in. The greatest gift? Uh huh. That's why she threw me away like I didn’t matter.
So again, it isn't you Z, it’s all me. I'm too weak and too tired, and just too exhausted from pretending all the time. So I have to go now. I have to before I change you into someone else and eventually make you hate me, because I can't stand the thought of you ever hating me.
“What are you thinking, Z?” Mack asks quietly as I pause.
“Um, I'm thinking she's so fucked sometimes. She doesn't pretend. Well, I guess she does but she doesn't actually fool anyone. Like I don't know when she's going off the rails? Like I can't see the changes in her when things are getting bad? Really? A fucking stranger could look at her and see the shaking and her eyes wide with fear, and everything changing from her breathing to her voice without knowing anything about her. She might pretend, but she doesn't fool anyone. And as for hating her, yeah, I think I'm already there, Mack," I say on a long exhale as he nods.
"Can you finish? I'm expecting something about finding someone better to love soon. Am I right?" Mack asks with another goddamn smirk that I return. He really does know her so well, I'm almost jealous of it, even though I know deep down it’s a good thing between them, not a romantic one.
"Yes, I can finish. And as usual, you're right about her," I shake my head before picking the letter back up from my thighs.
Z, I want you to find someone else to love. Someone who is easy and good, and who is actually worthy of you. I want you to love her and marry her, and even have those beautiful babies I couldn't give you. I want you to find love that is easy and makes sense. I want so much for you, and I want it because I love you. Walking on eggshells around a crazy wife who can't give you what you deserve isn't the life you're supposed to live. So please go find her and love her and be happy with her. Give someone who is worthy of you your good, bad, ugly, and beautiful, and make her give you the same in return.
"Just find someone else," I whisper shaking my head again. "She's so fucked, Mack. As if I could just forget everything we’ve been through and move on easily with someone else. Fuck, if I wanted easy I would've been married before her. Easy wasn't a problem to find, true love was," I whisper as my throat tightens.
"Yes," Mack agrees quietly before I finish the last paragraph.
God, I love everything about you, Z. From your smiles and eyebrow wiggles, to your huge heart and your beautiful eyes. You are everything to me in every moment I've known you, always.
Please forgive me.
I love you.
Suzanne
xo
Exhale. Jesus Christ! This is such bullshit.
"She loves everything about me in every moment she's known me. But she doesn't love me enough to live."
"Yes," Mack agrees again calmly as I try to silence the anger and hurt inside me.
"What are you thinking, Z?" Mack asks after a few minutes of quiet between us.
"Nothing. Everything. I don't know anymore. I love her and I hate her, and I want to be with her and I want to let her go. I'm scared she's going to kill herself, but I want her to be able to die finally if it’s what she really wants and needs to finally have some peace in her life," I admit sadly choking up a little.
Wow, is that true? Do I actually want her to succeed finally? No, I don't.
"Is that how you really feel?"
"No. I just want her to feel good for once. So I think I thought her suicide would finally free her from all the shit torturing her. I think I was ready to let her die."
"And now?"
"Now, I really don't want her to die," I exhale for the hundredth time this evening. "But I’m not strong enough to keep her alive," I moan.
"Holy shit, Z… you're so goddamn dramatic sometimes," Mack says mocking me. "Do you want her to live?"
"Yes," I nod feeling nothing but sadness at the loss of her.
Suddenly standing, Mack smiles and says, "Okay, good. That's something for me to work with."
"Um... What?" Fuck! I sound like Suzanne suddenly with my confusion.
"You're an arrogant asshole, and Suzanne is fucked up, Z," Mack laughs at presumably my stunned expression. "She’s depressed, you idiot. I told you a thousand times this would happen, and I've told her 2 thousand times this would happen. You both knew it but didn't understand that it was happening. She doesn't want to die. Well, she did, but now she doesn't want to. She wants to get better and she wants to feel better."
"You don't think she would have killed herself Tuesday night?" I ask again just stunned by his carefree demeanor.
"Oh, I absolutely think she would have if you haven't realized what was happening Tuesday night and stopped her." Wow. Okay. I was just kicked in the balls again.
"But it would have been the biggest sadness and regret of all of our lives. She is very, very depressed, Z. It's soul consuming, and very real for her. It's her worst nightmare thinking and feeling only awful negative. She can't see anything good, and she doesn't feel anything good. But it's the depression, not her actual life. And I think I explained it and got through to her earlier, and she wants to get better, Z. She wants to live," he says so intensely, I find the change in my reality again so strange and overwhelming I can't help the release of all the pressure I've felt for the last 6 days.
Choking out a cough cry, I bury my face in my hands and try to get a grip. What the hell is happening here? I have no fucking idea anymore.
When Mack squeezes my shoulder from beside
the couch, I almost lean into him, or shrug him off. I don't know which one I need because I'm so messed up.
"Christ, I feel like shit," I mumble.
"I know. Ironically, the more insecure and depressed she became, the more insecure you felt. And now depression has settled into you as well."
"I'm not depressed. I'm just mentally exhausted."
"Call it whatever you want, but it's essentially the same thing. And you need help, Z. Do you hear me?"
"Yes," I mumble again looking up at his smiling face.
"Okay. Get some sleep, figure out what you want with and without Suzanne, and I’ll call you tomorrow morning. Got it?"
"Okay."
"And stop being such an arrogant dickhead, Z. You aren't the reason she lives or dies. You're just here to love her as best as you can, while you can. Her failure to be happy doesn't make you a failure as a man, or as her husband, or as anything else. Remember that when the insecurity sneaks up on you," Mack again smiles before walking to the door.
"Thank you," I stare hard at Mack as he nods.
"No problem. But I'm charging double time and a half with you two, cuz you’re both fucked!" He laughs as I do before walking out the door.
Being called an arrogant dickhead is so funny to me suddenly, like I didn't know that about myself already. Still. Twice in one night is a little much from Mack.
Standing to go to bed, I don't even care that its 9:30. I'm just wasted from all this shit, but at least now I know Suzanne wants to live. And I want her to live. I just hope that’s enough for Mack to work with.
CHAPTER 15
Suzanne
We Are US... Page 19