The stage is set, the pieces are in place, the die is cast, no stone unturned, the time is now, and I cant think of one clich in the English language I havent used during the writing of this story ! I am about to pull the trigger, to release the hounds, to uncover the devastating revelation which will forever dissolve any link I have to the FAN FIC writers – this is my final chapter, my last hooray, my swan song. There will be no encore, no curtain call, no returning to the scene of the crime. It aint over til its over and it will be over shortly – the L Word Fan Fiction site deleted from my favorites.

The finality of the situation is becoming all too real for me and I am having second thoughts. A thin veil of fear and regret is beginning to envelope me as a sense of impending doom is clouding my judgment. Maybe there is no need to put the final nail in the coffin, to cut that cord so completely, to shut that door so tightly, to burn that bridge so totally. I did accomplish part of my goal – I did hook them, they told me so. And I did interrupt the thought process of a few authors – they admitted to neglecting their own stories to take the time to read mine. So why not just be satisfied with this small victory. For a few brief moments they felt that magnet pulling them to a story they found compelling, different, addicting – that feeling I have fought since the Show ended nearly 5 months ago.

If truth be told (which would be a novel concept for this story!), I dont want to stop them from writing; I dont want to stop myself from reading them. Besides if I dropped some type of bombshell or plot twist , they may just be expecting it.

HA!! I KNEW IT!! YOU DIRTLY LITTLE RAT ***** THOUGHT YOU COULD HOOK US AND FOOL US WITH YOUR TWISTED TALE OF ADDICTION, BUT WE KNEW ABOUT THIS ALL ALONG!! WE WERENT FOOLED (yea, right, look whos lying NOW!).

Im starting to feel a little paranoid and pessimistic because thats what addicts feel. I dont think I should go down this road . . I dont want the writers to hate me, to two-star my story, banish me from the site, to shun me like some Amish girl gone wild.

No, I will take the high road and bury this foolish plan of revenge. I will stand up and confess that I am an addict. I am addicted to the FAN FIC stories, those titillating tales of romance, ***** and everything Bette and Tina that make me log on more than once a day. I am addicted to ALL the stories, not just HERS, that one writer who haunts me with her style, her plotline, that annoying habit of posting only once every 891 days (I think I will send her money to make her write more often). I am an addict who lies, cheats and steals because I am so addicted. And like my inexplicable attraction to the beach, this is one addiction I do not want to shake.

Nope, no need to go down that road, no need to tell the readers that there is no K, never was, that she was just a character in a well-thought out plot of revenge which was actually being hatched months ago when I first became addicted. Why shatter the illusion of love, soul mates, romance, co-habitation and all that mushy stuff about bike rides and commitment and dogs and dancing and the Stooges. I am sure these authors are better off not knowing that my girlfriend is really some 24-year old tattoo artist, tech school dropout with a limited vocabulary and foul mouth (You kiss your mother with that thing? *****, not only do I kiss her with it I ***** her with it too so she knows what her kid does all day long !) Shes got spiked hair on her head and braided hair under her arms (now THAT took some getting used to but that ***** can ***** me like nobodys business so I make the sacrifice). She smells of incense and tastes like rotten cheese and has more than 38 piercings over her body (I do love the ones on her tongue and ***** — hot-hot-hot) I know no one is interested in the fact that her name is Kritter and if I ever called her K or some other term of endearment she would probably *****-slap me across the parking lot of the apartment complex in which I rent a studio because its all I can afford not working and all. I spend my days searching the want ads for hospitality industry positions and surf the web in search of ***** ***** sites on a computer I borrowed and never returned. I would never tell the readers that Im lucky to have her, good gawd Im just lucky to be alive, because that freak of nature really scares me. I think that she will someday chop me into tiny pieces with a chainsaw while I sleep then eat me as if I were chicken nuggets, licking her fingers as she walks out the door. The only time I want to see that twit licking her long, slender fingers with three-inch black polish coated nails with skull and crossbones on them is after she has just fucked me so deep that I feel those nails in my throat stifling the cries of pleasures I cannot release as I ***** and ***** and ***** again. She can clean me up after she cleans her fingers using that stud-pierced tongue and I certainly wont object.

As for me being old?, I dont think the Fan FIC girls care that I am nowhere near the age of 30 because if I were my hottie wouldnt even have looked twice in my direction. I actually hooked up with her when I went in to get a tattoo of a frog on the crease in my leg between my hip and crotch. I wanted him to have a long tongue catching a fly landing THERE. Well, she had to shave me for that to happen and the rest is a sordid history which will not be revealed to the writers because I am not going there. Nope, no need to introduce any of that story line.

No, no, no, no, no- – not doing it , not telling any of that stuff. I am going to end my writing career on a high note – reveling in the fact that I participated in the respected CATCH AND RELEASE program encouraged by the fish and game commission. No hook em, reel em in and leave em for dead here. Nope, not gonna do it. I hooked a few, then let them go – go back to their task of writing the stories which I can not — stories about L characters — stories which I love and am so addicted to. Yep, I am happy, happy with the decision to leave well enough alone and get back to the business of feeding my addiction.

So like the Vegas dealer whose shift has ended, I stand, clap my hands once , spread them apart, show you my palms as an indication that I have nothing up my sleeve — that I am leaving it all on the table. I am outa here . . Thank you all so much. Tips are greatly appreciated . . .
**************************************



I enter the small bedroom because that is where the computer is. I pop an EVANESCENSE cd in my portable player and log on for the third time today. I love that song of theirs MY IMMORTAL. I hit repeat so that song plays over and over and over again — I think of Bette and Tina every time I hear it. It makes me incredibly sad . . .sad for their future because I do not believe that their relationship problems will be resolved in a few episodes if at all this season. I feel that Bette will fall deeper into that hole of self-destruction and Tina will abandon her for a while – rekindling their love through flashbacks of happier times. I am sad for Dana and Alice who have created an impossible situation for themselves; I am sad for Shane because I want her to be happy but at the same time I like her promiscuity ! I am sad for myself because Jenny will still be a character on the show next season !!

(..AND IF YOU HAVE TO LEAVE
I WISH THAT YOU WOULD JUST LEAVE
CAUSE YOUR PRESENCE STILL LINGERS HERE
AND IT WONT LEAVE ME ALONE.

THESE WOUNDS WONT SEEM TO HEAL
THIS PAIN IS JUST TOO REAL
THERES JUST TOO MUCH THAT TIME CANNOT ERASE)

I head to the site to find some solace, to find a story that will make me laugh or sigh with joy. I look for HER but as usual SHE is not there – nothing new today.. I dont want to be sad but I am.
I search for a good story because that is what it is all about – the ability to tell a tale so believable, so intoxicating, so wrought with passion and emotion and conflict and intrigue and laughter (and of course *****) that the reader can not help but come back time and time again.

(YOU USED TO CAPTIVATE ME
BY YOUR RESONATING LIFE
NOW IM BOUND BY THE LIFE YOU LEFT BEHIND
YOUR FACE IT HAUNTS
MY ONCE PLEASANT DREAMS
YOUR VOICE IT CHASED AWAY
ALL THE SANITY IN ME)

I hear the front door and am momentarily startled. I take out one of the earplugs from the cd player to hear her yell to me. Arent you ready yet? Were meeting that realtor in 30 minutes, Hurry up babe.

She walks toward the bedroom and I minimize the screen, a single silent tear splashing the keyboard — shed because I know what I am about to do and I just can’t help myself. I take off my t-shirt to make it appear that I am getting ready to change my clothes. I get up from the computer and meet her at the door. Hey, K she puts her finger under the front clasp of my bra and pulls me to her kissing me like she hasnt seen me in days. She doesnt notice my wet eyes – she’s preoccupied with the fact that we are about to go house hunting. I put my hand behind her head and my fingers in her hair in that Bette-like fashion. I break the kiss and press my cheek to hers, not able to look in her eyes. I kiss her temple then run my tongue over and in and out of her ear.

( WHEN YOU CRIED ID WIPE AWAY ALL OF YOUR TEARS
WHEN YOUD SCREAM ID FIGHT AWAY ALL OF YOUR FEARS
I HELD YOUR HAND THROUGH ALL OF THESE YEARS
BUT YOU STILL HAVE
ALL OF ME)


What have you been doing, she asks a little breathlessly. I start to walk away, my hand trailing down her arm to her hand to her fingers. Without looking back I walk to the closet as if I am searching for an outfit to wear to the realtors. Without hesitation I answer . .
Just checking my e-mail.

I LIE . . . . BECAUSE THATS WHAT ADDICTS DO . . . . .


THE END . . .