December 11, 2013

Suzy Devere


Before writing back I thought a lot about what your wife, whom you love, would say were she to read my response. You see, you know your relationship with her and you know me, but she only knows you. I thought about what I owe her as a person, and what I owe myself. I thought about what men offer me, versus what I want, and what I feel I deserve. And this is what comes for me to say:

I've been alone a long time. And I am lonely. I'd be lying to you if I didn't admit that I've thought of you more than once the way you were thinking of me last night. I have. In fact, I am laughing as I write this next statement, because it sounds ridiculous, but it's true: I think of you as arguably the hottest sex I've ever had. I think less crudely of it than it sounds...I actually--in my mind--associate you with the "best lover" rather than the word "sex."

I've wondered what happened and why we never really went out in a substantial way. I mean, I don't remember ANYTHING specific. I'm sure it was a screwed up situation somehow, and if it was my typical situation, then I was completely nuts and lost and never could find equilibrium. I don't even remember us having sex...maybe we didn't! It seems like we did, but you know, I just can't remember. What I do remember is hearing your voice in my ear. You telling me what to do. Telling me what you wanted. And your warmth and your kiss. I said, it's not a specific anything except once we may have been in your bedroom and I think I remember you pushing me up against the wall and ...

So my memories of you are like that. It is a vague warmth and shiver, all the way down. It is the way an old woman remembers her first love. And in my situation, I think "What the hell was I thinking? What was wrong with me? How did I miss that?"

You had a girlfriend, I think. Maybe I was with someone else but I think I was with too many people and that may have been the problem for you. If you remember, you can tell me. Help me to remember. But weirdly, what I remember most is what I told you above, and your dad. I really loved that guy. Wanted to be in your family. I think of you standing right next to him, showing me where I could stay? And feeling so taken care of by you.

I'm so glad we are in touch again. And I know your drunk text is just fun and NOT a big deal. I'm not taking it as a big deal but as the fun you intended and love that you do think of me. However, the difference is that I don't have anyone to chase the drink of memory down with.

You were loved!

[editor's favorite, 2013]


Suzy Devere appears and disappears seemingly at will. She could be camping in the underground right now, or back in Pattaya, sitting in a rattan chair at a bar overlooking the harbor, having drinks with some old ghosts of Vietnam.

1 comment:

sarah corbett morgan said...

Yes! I just submitted an essay much like this one, Suzy. It seems, for any adventurous women, there is a man like that lurking just on the edges of our consciousness. Well done.