I turn away from him, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay. I wish I wasn't so maudlin when I'm tipsy. I slump heavily against the wall as my knees start to shake. Superman doesn't love me. He never will. He 'cares' about me. Big deal. He cares about everyone. I'm nothing special to him and I was stupid to think that I was.
<Endless row of mental images of Superman rejecting or leaving Lois marches across the back of Ann's retinas>
"Clark, haven't you ever wanted someone even though you knew it was impossible? Someone that you couldn't ever in a million years have?"
His expression turns wistful. "Yeah."
He's feeling sorry for himself because he's despairing about making Lois fall in love with I'm-not-Superman-at-all plain old Clark Kent!!!! <wails with frustration>
Ahh, but I
love the way you use Lois's drunkenness to make Clark see the real, vulnerable woman beneath the Mad Dog Lane facade.
In vino veritas. Clark can no longer tell himself that Lois's intense interest in Superman is just a stupid crush, and she is just a shallow groupie, who will never love the real
him unless he makes her love the man that he is
not, an ordinary man without superpowers.
Well, since I haven't seen the show, I can't sympathize with Clark for all the reasons he must have had to lie to Lois about himself during the first season. I know he must have had many good reasons to lie, since all the rest of you can sympathize with him!
But thank you, thank you, Sue, for telling us a story about the honesty of Lois's love for the magnificent protector of Metropolis:
"What would you say to him? If you could have him alone for a few minutes?" Clark leans back against my door frame and crosses his arms as he waits for me to answer.
I shrug, not wanting to admit to Clark that *talking* to Superman isn't entirely what I had in mind. "I don't know. Something stupid, probably. No, not stupid. Maybe I'd tell him how amazing I think he is. How glad I am that he's come to Metropolis. Or how I know that there's got to be a real person beneath all that spandex and I wonder if he ever gets lonely. I know I come across as lusting after him, but the truth is..." I pause and suck in a deep breath. "The truth is that I just want to be his friend. I want to know who he really is. I want to know the real Superman."
Oh, she is lusting after him all right, but there is more to her than that. She
does want to be his friend. Heck, she
is his friend and his staunch supporter. She just wishes that, oh god
pleeeeease, he would reciprocate just a little bit.
And she doesn't think that Superman is just some kind of god in a cape:
Finally, Clark softly asks, "What do you think the real Superman is like?"
"Mmm." I close my eyes and try to picture him. Gentle. Sweet. Passionate. Hopelessly in love with me and afraid to admit it. Suddenly I visualize Superman sitting at Clark's desk, watching me like Clark does. That would be so amazing! What if Superman was like Clark? Right now that thought makes perfect sense to me. I giggle and look up at Clark through my eyelashes. "You," I say, before I can think better of it. "I bet Superman is a lot like you, just without the smart aleck tendencies."
Again and again in this vignette, you make me almost cry for Lois only to giggle a few seconds later at the delicious irony of the situation or the sheer perfection of a remark that Clark or Lois made. And you made me feel that, finally, yes, Clark cares for
Lois. He didn't really do that before, but even I can't find him totally blameworthy because of the cowardice and selfishness he has shown toward Lois before. No, because this guy is a little schizophrenic, and he is trying to make Lois love the man that he so desperately wants to be but is not, the perfectly normal and human Clark Kent. It is as if he thought that Lois's love for that non-existing man could actually somehow miraculously
turn him into that man and miraculously make him
really belong to the human race. Even I can't blame Clark Kent, who even before he became Superman was acting like a guardian angel to the human race, for wanting to belong to humanity. For wanting to really, really be one of us. And he thought that Lois's love for the human guy he was pretending to be could somehow turn him into that guy and save him. Making him belong.
But in your story, Clark finally begins to see the honesty of Lois's love for the superhuman aspect of him. He begins to see that he can't ask her to give him the love that
he needs if he isn't willing to give her the love that
she needs. If he isn't willing to take her love for Superman seriously. And he isn't giving her the chance to love him for the man he really is if he isn't willing to be honest with her about the man that he really is.
Clark stands up straight and runs a hand through his hair. "I wish you were sober."
I laugh. "I don't! I hope I'm never sober again. It's going to hurt so much in the morning." Just like that, my good mood vanishes and I'm left with the same gut-wrenching grief as before. "I just wish..." I swallow back a sob and choke out the last few words. "I wish he would notice me."
Clark sighs and scratches the back of his head. "I... think you should call me when you wake up tomorrow."
"Why? Do you have a surefire hangover cure?"
"No." He shakes his head and smiles at me. "I just need you sober so we can talk."
"About what?"
"Superman."
"Why not now? What if you forget what you wanted to say?"
"I won't forget."
"You don't know that!"
"Lois, in this instance, I promise, I won't forget. This is something I've wanted to tell you for a while now. I'm not going to forget. Even if you forget what happened tonight, I'm still going to tell you." He bends and kisses my cheek softly. "Get some sleep."
Oh, sob and sniffle! He is going to tell her! Ah, Sue, you just told me a story where you melted Superman's heart of stone for me. Really, really. You turned him into a man who loves Lois, a man who cares about Lois, not just a man who needs Lois for his own salvation. You turned him into a man whose love for Lois matters more to him than his own jittery fears of exposure. Thank you, thank you, Sue!
Ann
P.S. The way you told us this story from Lois's POV was beyond perfect!
