Fan Love & Fictional Lovers

Bold, scary, but slightly anonymous confession:  I've been madly, deeply, hopelessly in love with Bobby Goren for many years now. I've been well aware that my affections are (mostly) wasted on an imaginary man. But I've also been comforted by the fact that I'm not alone in my deep love for this quirky and thoughtful tall, cool drink of a detective. In fact, I'd guess there are hundreds of women in the world who consider Bobby their lover, if not boyfriend or even husband. Hell, there might be a few guys out there who feel that way, too.

What I've come to realize -- and it was a bit of a shock -- is that what makes Bobby Goren great is not his thoughtfulness, compassion, and the 5 o'clock shadow I've lusted after. No, what makes him so incredibly wonderful is his total adoration of me. Yes, for all my love and affection for him it's the fact that he adores me that makes him utterly perfect. He sees the best in me; he never misunderstands me; and, most of all, he'll never reject me. These are the qualities that make him the perfect mate.  And one that can never really exist.

How did I come to this sad truth? It finally hit me after spending a marvelous long evening "chattering" with Vincent D'Onofrio,  the actor who brings my Bobby to life. It's important, I think, to realize that "my Bobby" isn't necessarily his Bobby. And, after having spent those hours chattering with him, I know that my Bobby is way better than his. He has to be.

So there we all were -- maybe hundreds of us (who can say, since only those willing to put ourselves out there and post anything are visible?) -- gathered together in a quasi-real shared lived experience with the man we've come to know as the physical manifestation of Bobby Goren. A man we place a tad higher on the pedestal than the rest of us.  VDO and his fans, together at the same moment, in the same sort of space. Chattering. Some of us asking questions, some of us just making comments. And he, bless him, sorting through the gajillions of queries, trying to answer as many as he could and staying up until 1:00 in the morning just so the West Coast fans could chat and watch his show simultaneously.

It was a little crazy, what with all of us clamoring for his attention, nay his affection. And some of us receiving it as he answered and, at times, even referred to a few by name and joked with others. But at the end of it all, I was left wondering if all of our affections weren't just a bit misplaced. I mean, we virtually threw ourselves at his feet, looked up, way up, and hoped for a little acknowledgment. When we got a taste of it, we wanted more. But, at the end of it all, what did we get? I'm still not sure. But it seemed pretty clear to me that the actor, for all the great qualities we could see in him, and all the great fun we had with him, didn't know us. Not the way we wanted him to. He had his own interests and his own issues and, well, let's face it, he had his own mind; he was himself (on his best behavior no doubt, just like the rest of us). But he was his own Self. And he didn't know me, or understand me or any of those things Bobby does. And when I woke up the next morning and turned on the LOCI marathon of the day, I started to cry.

I looked at Bobby Goren on the screen and I saw 2 Bobbys. One was Vincent's Bobby. He had the quirks and the stammering and the leaning and that delicious raspy voice that Vincent brings to his character. After having a night filled with Vincent chatter, it was hard to separate the man from the character. But behind Vincent's Bobby, I thought I caught a glimpse of mine. The one who's been with me now for about 10 years. The one who adores me and gives me everything I need. The one who knows me like no other. And I cried.

Years ago on some LOCI message board I asked the question: "Why do I love this man so very, very much and why does this love hurt so deeply?" And I put out there in cyberspace this tiny answer to myself: "Is it because he's not real and I'll never, ever get to meet him?" Some thoughtful person responded to my little query with a resounding "Yes."  So, years ago I knew the truth but it took that somewhat real life encounter to feel it. To know that my Bobby is truly a figment of my imagination. And part of me is about to say goodbye to him. Maybe for good. But another part is screaming to hang on. How can my Bobby leave me?
I'm still not sure if he will but I think I see him slipping out the door and waving goodbye. And I think it's probably a good thing, but I'm still crying because I'll miss him so very, very much.
I already do.