Steve and Susan Jill Parker
Steve and Susan Jill Parker meet for the first time.
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Author's Note:
This story was written for Steve. He wanted to profess his love for Susan Jill Parker in this romantic, love story. He wanted me to record his feelings of heartache, heartbreak, and love in his true story. Having read her stories for years, he was in love with her. Yet, not realizing who she was when he followed her and chased after her, he was surprised that his dream woman was, indeed, her.
# # #
It all started like any other day, instead of taking a bus or a taxi home from work, I walked home from work. After being couped up in an office all day, I needed to stretch my legs. I needed to get some exercise. Moreover, in addition to stretching my legs and getting some much-needed exercise, walking usually clears my head. Even while being distracted by the sights and the sounds of the bustling city, walking usually helps me to think.
Except for this day, I was too upset to think but the walking helped me to blow off some steam. Pressured to finish my work, I was tired. I was crabby. Everything seemed to upset me. With so many people out and about, and getting in my way, people, especially women, annoyed me. Between ambulances, firetrucks, horns beeping, and traffic, the city was so noisy, too noisy to keep a thought in my head. I couldn't think.
As if it was the Christmas rush, the sidewalk was crowded with people in a hurry to get home. Seemingly, everyone was doing the same thing at the same time. Hailing cabs, catching buses, and running down the steps to the crowded underground, everyone was in a hurry. Instead of staggering work times, allowing everyone to leave together, I wished they had metered the times when people could leave.
With them rushing here and rushing there, the enormous crowd of people gave me the jitters. Forcing me to stop to allow them to pass, women continually cut in front of me. Taking liberties with them being the weaker sex, men would never cut in front of other men in the way that women hogged the sidewalk.
It was unsafe to be out after a certain hour. Indeed, it was not safe. Seemingly, no one wanted to be turned into a pumpkin, or more likely be a victim of assault, rape, a robbery, a stabbing, or a shooting. After 6pm, a big change in the atmosphere, the business district was totally deserted. Mobbed before with people, it was a virtual ghost town now. Packed with people before it was uninhabited now.
Getting to the office early enough to finish all that I needed to do, I had worked a long,12-hour day. Even though I was tired, the walking, when I could walk without bumping into someone, did me good. Yet, I couldn't wait to have some downtime to decompress. I needed to relax.
I couldn't wait to get home and pour myself a single, malted scotch. I couldn't wait to slowly sip my drink while watching mindless TV and waiting for my Chinese food to be delivered. I couldn't wait to eat and go to bed.
'Eat, work, and sleep, is all that I do.' I thought.
# # #
Sometimes, I wished I had a busty, dark haired wife named Katie, who'd welcome me home with a kiss, a hug, and a hot, piping dinner fresh out of the oven.
'How was your day,' I imagined my imaginary wife asking after giving me a kiss?
I imagined giving her a forced smile while feeling her big tits. I imagined that I loved her big tits. I imagined my imaginary wife having exceptional breasts.
'Exhausting,' I imagined saying.
Sometimes, I wished I had a couple of kids, a boy named Tommy and a girl named Stephanie, who were glad to see me.
'Daddy! Daddy! Mommy! Daddy's home,' I imagine my imaginary children saying while happy that I was home from work.
Sometimes, I wished I had a small, dog, a toy, Manchester terrier, named Rocky, 'Yip!' Or a big dog, a huge dog, a Great Dane, named Tiny, 'Woof!'
I love dogs but with me working so many hours, it wouldn't be fair to the dog to be couped up all day.
'Down, boy. Down. Stay,' I imagine saying to my imaginary dog while trying to get in the front door without him jumping on me.
Nonetheless, I wished I had a pampered pet who'd jumped up in my lap and lick my face to show me how happy he was that I was home. Yet, unmarried, I didn't have a busty wife to kiss, adoring children to hug, or even a loyal dog to greet. Fated to be alone, I was always alone.
# # #
Yet, instead of finding my certain someone, my perfect person, my special woman, and my forever companion, never finding the right person, I was alone. I lived alone. I dined alone. I watched television alone. I went to bed alone and woke up alone.
'Alone, alone, alone. I'm always alone.'
Wishing I could change that and find someone, I was tired of being alone. I was lonely. I was horny. I was unhappy. I was depressed.
Tired of working, work, work, work, all I did was work. Needing something more than working just to make a living enough to survive, I needed a fuller life. I needed a woman as my compass, to not only give me my direction but also to give me my purpose in life. I needed a beautiful woman to have intimate relations with while my children were asleep, and my faithful dog was beside me on the floor.
'Is that too much to ask? Where is my woman,' I thought to myself again while feeling horny as much as I felt sexually frustrated?
# # #
I've tried picking up assorted women in bars, from hookers, to whores, to lonely housewives, to young, single, and carefree. Still, after an exciting, sexual romp, I ended up alone. I've tried meeting seemingly interesting women online. I've tried dating services. I've tried cooking classes, book reading classes, art classes, and museum touring excursions, all without luck. I'm still alone.
I have friends, co-workers, and relatives constantly and continually trying to hook me up with blind dates to find the supposed love of my life. Sure, I've gotten laid a lot, but I needed more than just empty sex. I needed a real relationship. I needed a love relationship.
I needed love. I needed to find love. I needed a love affair. I needed to be in love. I needed to be ecstatically head-over-heels in love. Yet, with every married couple that I know seemingly, always bickering, arguing, separating, splitting, and eventually divorcing, why are they so quick to get me hitch? When on the surface, and by any measure of my imagination, I'm happier than they are being carefree and single, albeit alone.
Years later, all to no avail, with me having the same personal, relationship problems, I'm still alone. I'm still lonely. I'm still wicked horny. I still haven't found my woman. I needed to find my woman. I needed to find my person and my special someone. I need to find love.
# # #
Then, finally, as if birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, and the clouds parted enough for me to see a vision from Heaven. A happy ending to my sad, lonely love story, something that I somehow just knew, I knew as soon as I saw her that she was the one. I found her. I found my special woman.
'There she is! Oh, my God. That's her,' I thought. 'I don't believe it. I found her. I can't believe that I finally found her.'
Difficult not to notice her, as if it was meant to be, I saw her from behind and from a distance, nearly half a New York, block away. Yet, somehow, as if it was fated to be, without even having to see her from the front, without even having to talk to her, and romance her, I knew that she was who I had been searching to find. She was my perfect, female companion. One in a million, she was the one. I needed to look no further.
'Thank you, Jesus,' I thought giving my thanks to God.
With her head held high, full of confidence with each step, she was walking within a crowd of women. She was a head taller than all the other women. As she walked, her head bobbed up and down and side to side as if she was a blonde buoy in a sea of ordinariness. At that very moment, already in love, love at first sight, not even having to see the rest of her, I personally understood why songwriters wrote love songs about women that they didn't know and had never met but had only imagined.
'Could she be my love song,' I wondered? 'Love at first sight, I was already in love with this woman, whoever she was. I was ready to write my love song. Only, I didn't know her name. I wondered what her name was. I, at least, needed to know her name to write our love song.'
All the time that I was walking while trying to catch up with her, I wondered her named.
'Could her name be Kathy, Linda, Diane, Christine, or Veronica? I had no idea. I could only guess but it was certainly fun guessing while trying to put a name to the back of her,' I thought.
# # #
There was no room on the sidewalk to run after her. With my walkway so crowded and blocked, I couldn't even jog. I didn't want to trip over someone and fall. I didn't want to risk taking the chance of being hit by a taxi or a speeding bicycle messenger by walking in the street.
Instead, while hoping that I was walking faster than she was, I quickened my step whenever I could without tripping over someone. I continued walking faster while trying to catch up to her. As if the women around me were trying to detain me and stop me from catching up to her, women walked in front of me. Women cut me off and nearly tripped me. Women crashed into me while trying to gain entrance in a store for a dress that they saw on sale.
Women, women, women, I was surrounded by women, but none of the women were the one that I wanted. As if they all were talking and laughing at the same time, they made a lot of noise, white, annoying noise. I couldn't imagine being married to any of them. They made my head hurt and I couldn't think. Women walked at leisurely pace in front of me while incessantly talking and loudly laughing. Women slowly walked in front of me while stopping.
'Who are all of these women,' I thought. 'Perhaps, I've been oblivious, but I've never seen so very many women.'
I wish I could just push them out of my way without being arrested and/or sued.
