The Hardest Part

But the curiosity would not go away. Fingers flew across keyboard, message sent. It was now a waiting game to see if reply would be made.

Weeks later, mind began drifting again. The question asked what had been the most romantic thing ever to happen to him, for many stories were told of things he had done for past loves. The same person accusing of defenses was now asking. Only one response would do. He opened the walls momentarily and told the story.

Errands had been run and the spring day was wonderful. The door admitted him into the home where nose was greeted with pleasant scent, and ears met with running of water. She must be bathing. Groceries began to find their way into cabinets, and work was almost done when a voice from behind told him to stop. A small grin and work ceased. Hand found hand and began leading him away from task to darkened bathroom. Candles, bubbles, and soft music were found. Confusion swirled on face, and a smile came across others lips. It was almost as if she had stolen a play from him, for weeks earlier he had done this for her, with chocolate covered fruit and wine as well.

"You call me your queen. If that is true, that makes you my king. And kings do not wash themselves." Soon finger found buttons and shirt was being removed. When tried to help, told no was the response. Soon all buttons gave way, and shirt fell to floor. Hands rubbed exposed flesh, as a kiss found parted lips. No urgency was found in that moment, just soft lingering lips. Another kiss and hands worked on releasing belt. That obstacle removed more kisses, and more movement until pants fell away. In a moment nudity had been achieved. Hands guided nude to bath, and soon the waters warmth embraced him. He looked for cleaning items, only to find that they were in fact in her care, and not available to him. Water cascaded from cup over his head as the preparation of washing began. She took her time, and was gentle in washing him. Every part touched by female hand, every part in him sang. Directed to stand he did so, and took one step out where he was greeted with towel and woman. She kissed him again and began to dry him. A gleam in her eye as accused of not be relaxed, a smile to show she was playing. A robe placed on his shoulders, and then she sat in front of him. No warning of intention, mouth grasped protruding member. When hands try to pull her away, denied they were as mouth bobbed once again. The same result ensued as passion was swallowed whole. Told to lie down on bed, he did as commanded only to hear shower begin.

Minutes passed and soon queen was with king again. One nude, one in robe. Hunger kicked in again and soon both were nude. Wetness still clung to one, but soon her back was found and he devoured her lips. The fruit smell of her shampoo drove him wild as her soft skin was wet and delicious. The hunger did not allow for much in foreplay. He kissed her passionately as he parted her legs with his own. No resistance was met. Soon eyes locked as member lined up looking to take what was his. A vow of love was uttered, and a knowing look shared. One thrust took him halfway in, as he pulled back passion burned deep in ocean eyes, another thrust and he was home.

Home now had a new meaning. One of solitude, which after getting used to, was becoming familiar and not so cold. The white feline waited looking for food, the small k-9 looking for cuddles. No reply from the queen. Should there be any surprise? He began to recount all the signs of her. How both auditions took him to her hometown, and past the town they met in. Not substantial on their own. Then there was the random business trip that took him to her town she was currently residing just a few weeks later. Weird but not really incriminating. All the fellowship students that suddenly were filling his car looking for rides. Scary at how suddenly this was happening. Then there was the five dollar bill. It had been left as a tip for him, but had her name written on it. He scowled at God and then stashed it. It landed in the bank a few days later. Two weeks after that he received change in a different town. The five dollar bill with her name was back. He contacted her that night. Even made a video about the event. This time silence and defeat were the reply. Three times he contacted her, three times no reply. So no, he should not be surprised. Conformation this was of how little he really had meant to her. She was his everything, he was a time filler for her. It's easy to make promises when you have no intention of following through. No call to make sure he got home safe after the break up, he wasn't even worth that. He regretted not doing things differently in his life so they could be together. Or at least that she would want to be with him. That was a different time. Now he could go to WrestleMania in a week and a half and not answer to anyone. Sure he was going alone, but then again it appears that is how God wishes for it to be.

But what else did God wish for him? What was the goal, the purpose of her surprise visit to dating profile that was almost forgotten? Dating was no longer relevant to daily desire. Loneliness still filled him, but content was the overall feeling. Ok, not so much content, but acceptance. One had to accept that perhaps this life had been so badly messed up that bringing someone else in to it was just unfair.

Something nagged at him as the icy face stared back at him, almost mocking. She was unreachable. All of her gifts had been buried as if they were the lost Ark of the Covenant from the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Only one item remained out, a tiger's cup she had given him upon request. Payment for it had been forgotten in the whirlwind of break-up. He recognized true recovery had never really come. In some ways that fact was always there. No one had been good enough to put forth any effort for. No one captured imagination the way she had. He gave her all of him. Looking back, that was not the case for her. Not his cross to bear.

Cross to bear? It hit funny, that thought of cross to bear. Three years of his life had been given over to anger, guilt, and self-loathing. Sleeves pulled up revealed the scars that were added the night he returned home in despair. She never even called to make sure he got home. That was when he had truly learned of his worth to her. They were right, she did not love him. Not truly, not purely, not the way he loved her. He even wrote a story to her laying out the way for her to win him back if she so desired. A strange message was left, but no real effort.

The Count of Monte Cristo was playing in the background. Suddenly Edmond yells at Mercedes "DON'T ROB ME OF MY HATE. IT'S ALL I HAVE."

"Let it go Edmond." Mercedes pleads. "You don't need it anymore."

His friend was wrong. He was no James Bond, but a count. He looked back at mocking smile on face. The words formed on their own as fingers flew over keyboard.

My Queen,

Yes you are still my Queen. I pledged my love to you. That is something that is not taken lightly, well not by me anyway. I cannot understand why you left me, if we both believed in what God teaches us. I know why you did, and in honesty I can no longer blame you. In truth I have hated your name and how quickly I was forgotten by you. I wish I meant more to you. In some ways it might be God re-paying me for things I did in my past. I was quite evil in the day.

You meant the world to me. In many ways you still do. Hate is a hard thing to let go for me, as is pain and suffering. In some ways you drove me through the hardest pain I have ever had to deal with. The line is fine between love and hate. According to my favorite superhero, insanity isn't hard to accomplish either. You just need a little push.

Which is exactly what I just got from Edmond and Mercedes (and dare I say it God too). My heart has been hard for three years. I don't want this anymore. I don't want to be full of self-loathing and feeling like I matter to no one. Even though there is more proof that I don't. God says he will forgive us of everything if we bow before Him. And to be like Him, I don't even know if I want to be anymore. He has spat on me a lot. But in hopes of making things right I need to say this.

I love you. Which means I have to let go of you, and my hate of you. It has been my companion for three years. My confidant, protector, advisor, and champion. Tears roll down my face as I write these words for they are the hardest I have ever written. I loved your family, and really enjoyed your dad. He made me see I was nowhere near the man I needed myself to be, yet I think he loved me. Well accepted my company anyway. That day we spent looking for rapids, well it is a treasured day to me, even if it was the day you broke my heart.

You would probably hate me now. Full beard, long hair, I know you like clean cut guys. So in my love for you I say...I'm sorry for hating you. I'm sorry for speaking ill of you. I'm sorry for harboring all this negativity. It never hurt you, and it's not like you really cared. But it hurt me. I'm so very sorry I couldn't be your man, your king, your champion. You'll find him someday. Most importantly I forgive you. And ask that maybe you can do the same.

I'm not so boarish to think I will ever see you again. I gave you the key to find me, you never used it. I came to you and silence. I know my place in your life is out of it. I wish you all the happiness in the world. However your chapter in the book will not be edited much differently now. History is what history is. For the final time ...I love you my queen. That never changed.

With regards,

Wedge Stevens

Tears rolled down cheeks as sobs came softly at first, then harder. The love of his life left behind. Alone forever, he now knew he would be.

He looked at the book again. This was his goal now. Inspire and help others. He would write as many books as he could and be happy. The press release was due in a few weeks. He now knew what to say to promote it.

Ladies and gentlemen of the press...it is with great sadness that I must declare my retirement from dating, love, and all other forms of torture. I know you are all shocked, appalled, and relived. But ladies everywhere can freely dance, I'll still pay my ten dollars do to the same.

The speech continued in the Groucho style. The words unimportant, the feelings...