Day Two: Sunday, 8:50 pm, IN MY ROOM

suspicion torments my heart

Day Two: Sunday, 9:30 pm, IN MY ROOM

FILLED WITH DOUBT

Lying on my bed, I was determined to figure out why Marla had rejected me in such a cruel way.  Marla had activated my fear of betrayal, the rawest, most sensitive nerve in my being.  During the Enchanted Event, she led me to believe she cared about me.  Now she had changed her mind in the most brutal way I could imagine.  And the weird thing about it, ever since this morning my Instinct had warned me something terrible was coming.  This was one of those times I wished my uncanny Instinct would be wrong.  They say forewarned is forearmed, but not in this case.  Nothing could have prepared me for this level of disappointment.  My fondest dream had been so close. 

Like a detective, I retraced her words from last night.  Recalling last night's conversation, Marla had bluntly stated, "I don't want to hurt your feelings, Rick, but I had no interest in you (back at the studio).  You never crossed my mind."  Marla's behavior with Darren suggested her original lack of interest had returned full force.  First Chris, now Darren.  I was bewildered.  I had spent the entire day worried that Marla would return to her boyfriend.  In fact, I was still worried about that.  But never in my wildest dreams did I expect competition from another man as well.  Grasping at straws, I wondered if Marla had decided to end her relationship with Chris, then declared herself a free agent.  Why rush into something with Rick?  Why not play the field?  I gasped in horror.  Had Darren taken my place?   No way!  Surely no woman is that fickle!  On the other hand, how well did I really know Marla?  I hated myself for thinking this, but Marla had spoken of seeing a therapist, adding that her mind was badly messed up due to her toxic relationship.  There are degrees of mental illness.  Just how bad was it?  Was this weird behavior a symptom of something terribly wrong with this woman?  Was Marla a person who trusted no one, a person who flipped out at the slightest provocation? 

I shook my head in confusion.  What was the chance that Marla was unstable?  In the ten months I had known Marla, she had never struck me as crazy.  However, tonight's Jekyll and Hyde transformation was more than strange enough to raise this possibility. 

Marla's command performance at dinner was unlike anything I had ever seen in a woman.  I did not see this coming, I could not make sense of it, I did not know the reason why, I had no clue how to respond.  I was completely and utterly lost.  Was last night's Fairy Tale Enchanted Evening just a dream?  I had felt so sure of myself.  And I felt sure again when Marla nestled in my arms during our slow dance.  I looked at my watch.  90 minutes ago, Marla was in my arms purring like a happy kitten.  Now she was clinging to Darren like a well-worn overcoat.  I had never seen a woman flip like this, especially in the absence of any logical explanation.  I thought Marla was the real thing.  How could I have been so wrong? 

Racking my brain, I could not begin to explain the radical change in Marla's behavior.  Maybe it was my fault for reading too much into last night.  They say the psychological impact of a recent divorce seriously impairs a person's judgment.  Was that my problem?  Maybe my loneliness caused me to see something in Marla that wasn't there.  Love is Blind, Love does not have to make sense.  Was I one of those vulnerable people who foolishly pin their hopes on a relationship that has little chance of success?  Was my infatuation based on thin air?  Filled with self-doubt, I cringed as I recalled month after month of pining for a woman who never showed the slightest bit of interest.  Maybe Marla's affection last night meant less to her than it did to me.  Maybe she dances that close to a lot of men.  I wondered how it was possible to have been so easily fooled.  What kind of woman am I dealing with?

Day Two: Sunday, 9:50 pm, IN MY ROOM

dark night of the soul

During my long meditation here in my room, I went through different stages.  The first stage involved a frustrating, quite fruitless search for ways to explain Marla's behavior.  Leaving no stone unturned, some of the ugliest, meanest thoughts I ever had about women had passed through my mind.  Now my mood began to change from despair to rage.  Last night I thought Marla might be in love with me.  Now I had been ditched in about the most ruthless way I could think of.  Betrayed, deceived, played for a fool.  Everyone needs love, but why does it always have to be so difficult?  Was I supposed to believe last night meant nothing to this crazy woman?  The sight of her touching his hand made my blood boil.  The sight of her stopping within inches of collapsing against Darren's shoulders in mirth was equally galling.  What was she laughing about?  Was she laughing at me?  Did Marla and Darren share a nasty joke at my expense?  Thinking about her laughter, my hurt turned to anger.  Look what I get for sticking my neck out.  Considering the Epic Losing Streak of my past, every insecurity I had ever known dropped by for a visit.  I was so miserable.  This was my Dark Night of the Soul. 

Suddenly, to my surprise, my anger turned to tears.  Just when I thought I had met the girl of my dreams, I was alone again.  The cruelty of the moment was so unbearable, I could not be brave anymore.  Unable to deal with the disappointment, I broke down in tears.  A tidal wave of grief, bitterness and heartbreak hit at once.  Torrents of tears went streaming down my face.  Fearful someone would hear me sobbing, I buried my face in my pillow and cried uncontrollably.  My tears lasted an eternity.  Even though I barely knew Marla, I honestly felt like I had lost the love of my life.  Pain racked my soul as I cried my guts out.  Ten minutes?  Twenty?  I have no idea.  All I can remember is that it felt like I cried forever.  I had only cried like this three times in my life.  Once was the morning I discovered my face was obliterated with a mysterious overnight acne attack.  Once was the day I had to tell my beloved dog Terry I was leaving for college never to return.  The third was the day I cried following my public embarrassment at the Dance Class from Hell.  Now this. 

Mercifully, the tears finally ended.  I was too weak to stand, but I could at least move to the side of the bed and sit up.  My mood had changed, but not for the better.  Blindsided by Marla's inexplicable desertion, I was reeling from a sucker punch.  I knew evil women like Vanessa existed, but I never thought Marla would join the pack.  I was 50 years old.  One would think I was old enough to know better than let down my guard like that.  Following my recent divorce, I swore I would never open myself up to another woman.  But, damn it, there was something so special about Marla that I had decided to take that risk again.  Now I was paying dearly for my mistake.  I decided there is no such thing as True Love, at least not for me.

Earlier I felt hurt and helpless.  Then I got angry.  Then I had a breakdown.  Now I was filled with rage again, but this time it was worse.  I bristled at the thought that Marla considered me pathetic.  That triggered a volcanic reaction as my anger became hatred.  How dare Marla treat me like that!!  There was something badly wrong with her.  How else could I explain such an evil stunt?  I was angry at myself too.  How could I have been so foolish to trust a woman like that?  Feeling betrayed, all kinds of revenge fantasies crossed my mind when a remarkable thing happened.  With my hate towards Marla raging out of control, my mind suddenly hit the Pause button.  

Yes, it was true I did not trust Marla any longer, but there was so much contradictory evidence I could very well be jumping to the wrong conclusion.  Maybe I was overreacting.  Before I flew off the handle, I needed to figure this out.  Previously I thought Darren was Marla's new flame, but perhaps Marla was putting on a show to punish me.  I tried to make sense of this new theory, but it wasn't working.  Punish me for what?  Marla had to be very angry to go to those lengths.  The obvious answer was Jill, but Marla saw me ask her boyfriend for permission to dance with her on stage.  Clearly I was not trying to make Marla jealous.  My dance with Jill might have irritated Marla, but that did not justify throwing Darren in my face.  I had done nothing to warrant this kind of treatment.  I had angered women in the past, but at least I always knew what caused the problem.  Not this time.  I felt blameless.  It was absurd to believe I had angered Marla to this extent.  If anyone deserved her anger, it would be Chris, not me. 

Who knows what demons lurk in our unconscious?  Perhaps Marla's anger at Chris is what caused her to overreact.  Marla had dealt with her pain by going numb.  And then I came along to unleash her demons.  Perhaps Marla was out of control while she dealt with volcanic emotions of her very own.  This actually made some sense for a change, but I reacted poorly.  As Marla's unchained monsters took her for a joy ride, Marla had misplaced her anger on me.  That was not fair.  I deeply resented being made the scapegoat.  With that, my anger, briefly subsided, returned in force.  Furious, I got up and walked around the room seething with rage.  Yes, it is a woman's right to reject me, but no woman has the right to be hurtful without a valid reason.  Convinced Marla had played dirty, I could feel my ancient darkness wash over me.  Trust did not come easy and my feelings had been toyed with in a truly bizarre way.  Pushed the wrong way, I could turn into an asshole just like any other guy.  Right now I wanted to retaliate.  Maybe I should go knock on Connie's door and even the score with Marla.  No doubt I would be welcome.  But then I shook my head in disgust.  No matter how mad I was at Marla, Connie did not deserve to be treated like a pawn.  Unsure what to do, I just stood there in the middle of the room and seethed. 

Day Two: Sunday, 8:50-9:45 pm, still in my cabin

THREE TRIPS TO THE DOOR

Following ten minutes of pure hate, I cooled off.  My anger was replaced by sadness.  Okay, Marla played me for a fool, but lashing out would not bring her back.  Suddenly aware that my eyes were burning with pain, I went to the bathroom to clean out the salt.  Looking in the mirror, I realized I was still wearing my tuxedo.  What a strange night this had been.  After wiping my face dry, I found myself staring in the mirror as if it had the answer.  Marla's behavior still didn't make any sense.  However, staring at the mirror did seem to help.  I became aware that a new line of thought was struggling to be heard. 

It was my Instinct.  A small voice whispered there was no way the previous night's time with Marla had been a fake.  Was I so determined to fall in love that I had invested all this feeling in a woman who did not remotely feel the same way?  No! 

I was certain genuine sparks had flashed between us.  Furthermore, there was no way our romantic slow dance on the stage was faked.  Something was wrong, yes, but the small voice reassured me Marla's affection had been real.  There were so many possibilities running through my mind, my Instinct said the best thing was go and confront her. 

Hmm.  If I was going to speak to Marla, first I needed to change out of my formal clothes and put on some jeans.  After putting on a different pair of shoes, I headed to the door. 

However, the moment I reached the door, a flood of warning signals stopped me cold.  Hit by an avalanche of uncertainty, I was forced to return to a nearby chair lest I stumble.  Worried that confronting Marla was a bad idea, a serious debate broke out in my mind.  What if I confronted Marla and she showered me with further scorn?  Before I risked being treated like a pathetic fool for the second time tonight, I needed to understand why she had slapped me down to begin with.  Know thy enemy.  Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.  Why should I take another chance on her?  Don't let Marla trick me twice!  

Plagued with renewed doubt, my small voice of hope was drowned out.  I barely knew this woman.  Who is Marla?  Is she evil, is she wacko, or is she the classy woman I knew back at the studio?  After a year of careful observation, the evidence overwhelmingly suggested Marla was a poised, intelligent dignified lady.  And yet that image was contradicted by the spectacle of a shameless hussy publicly fawning over some man who was probably a complete stranger.  I shook my head in consternation.  Whenever I face a problem, I rely on my ability to reason.  However, overwhelmed with hurt feelings, so far tonight my brain had been totally ineffective.  Perhaps it was because I was so upset.  Be that as it may, so far no clear explanation had emerged.  Since my brain could not figure Marla out, I decided to give my Intuition a second chance.  My small voice replied that Marla liked me.  In fact, Marla liked me a lot, but something had gone haywire.  The small voice believed Marla was still willing to take a chance on me if I let her.  I took a deep breath as my brain took over to ask a tough question... "If she likes me, then what went wrong?"

My Intuition did not know, but added, "Only a monster would behave the way you think Marla is acting, and Marla is not a monster." 

My Suspicious side disagreed.  She sure acted like a monster, so how much could I trust this new line of thought?  Fortunately, my Instinct was currently riding a hot streak, having been proven right against all odds in the mystery of her relationship with Chris.  Pleased to discover my Intuition was intact after all, I currently held my 'Small Voice' in high regard.  Let's give my Instinct another try.  I asked my small voice to explain Marla's weird behavior. 

"Marla is definitely mixed up, but she is not a monster.  You have missed something or maybe something happened you don't know about.  If you ask Marla in person, whatever is wrong can still be corrected."

I frowned.  After studying Marla like a hawk for six months, I was willing to agree Marla was no monster.  Up till now, she had behaved like a normal person.  Furthermore, throughout the intensity of last night's encounter, Marla had been a lady in every sense of the word.  No, Marla was not a monster.  There was nothing phony about her.  And no, she was not a crazy person either.  That meant my gut instinct may actually be right, there might have been something I missed.  But what?  Where was I going to find the courage to confront this woman following the single worst rebuke of my life?  Until I cleared my confusion, I refused to leave my cabin.

Previously I have mentioned that I think too much.  No doubt the Reader agrees.  In particular, my mind goes to overboard if the problem is serious enough.  Tonight was one of those times.  So far my Dark Night of the Soul had raised every possibility known to man in a fruitless search for answers.  I could easily double the length of this book if I reported every thought that crossed my mind that night.  So I have decided to simplify things.  After another ten minutes of excessive analysis, I gave up and asked my Intuition to take over.

"Rick, why do you run around in circles?  Go see Marla.  Go find her and ask what went wrong." 

Emboldened, I rose from my chair for a second time.  Inches from the door I stopped.  Nope, nothing doing.  I got dizzy with fear and sat right back down with an attack of cold feet.  Earlier I had chickened out because I did not have the guts to approach Marla based on the flimsy hope she still liked me.  I was much too vulnerable to take a chance of this magnitude.  Some guys can take rejection and let it roll off their back.  Not me.  My feelings for Marla were much too strong.  If Marla brushed me off a second time, it would be a long time before I bounced back.  It had taken me three years to get over Vanessa.  If Marla slapped me down a second time the way she had at dinner, it could be years before I trusted a woman again.  Fearing another round of violent sobbing, it was far safer just to stay here in the cabin and feel sorry for myself.  However that is not what stopped me the second time. 

One hour ago, Marla had practically been sitting in Darren's lap.  Damn it, they were probably together right now!  If I knocked on Marla's door, there was a very good chance Darren was in their with her.  Where can I find the easiest place to jump off this ship?  For that matter, what if Marla was still roaming around with Darren after dinner?  Good lord, I would be crushed if I saw them together holding hands.  Fearful of running into Darren, I took my hand off the door handle and retreated back to my chair.  I just sat there too paralyzed to move.  How long did I sit there?  Who knows.  Five minutes?  Suddenly I lost my temper.  What the heck is wrong with me?  Sooner or later, I have to take a chance!  I cannot sit here for the remainder of the cruise trip.  The only way to solve this problem is to find Marla and ask her to explain what is going on.

Three times I had been to this door.  Twice I had recoiled in fear.  This has to end!  Disgusted by my cowardice, I reached for the handle a third time, then stopped again due to fear.  No way, I cannot do this.  However, this time I did not sit down.  Instead I just stood there shaking like a leaf.  The only way I could ever conquer my fear of Marla's rejection was to open this door.  And so I did.  On impulse, I flung the door open.  However, the moment I opened the door, I saw something so incredible that I froze again.  I had just witnessed a coincidence of the highest magnitude.  Marla was right before my eyes.