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The Asking – Part 2
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She sighed and leaned in, her forehead touching mine for an electric moment before she pulled away, her grip loosening ever so slightly. Searching her eyes, I missed the contact the instant it was gone. And I grieved all over again for the space she had left in my life.
”I thought you’d stop loving me if I wasn’t everything I needed to be,” she said slowly, her voice laden with insinuation and temerity.
My arms moved around her, and it felt as though I was feeling her for the first time. The sinewy strength of her torso and the muscles I had so loved to trace with my tongue tensed under my fingers. This tentative embrace, so natural and yet so unfamiliar now; the closeness we shared even though we were estranged by fear and doubt; the accumulated desperation was all focused in the movement of my arms around her and the clutching of my fingers at her shirt.
The throbbing of my throat thickened the words that escaped it, weighting them with the aching of my heart. “Bette,” I said her name and it felt strange, unusual on my lips, “you never had to be that person for me. You just had to be you. You just had to be there.” I closed my eyes briefly to hide the welling tears in her eyes and the telling downturn of her mouth. I didn’t want to cry anymore. Didn’t want to grieve anymore. And if what I told her was a lie, then it was a lie we both believed and wanted to hear.
She leaned in, laying her head on my shoulder and pulling me against her once more, tugging me with an unspoken desperation into her body, fitting so perfectly against my own that I almost cried out with a welcome pain.
”I wasn’t there for you,” she sobbed, her body heaving and moving with my own tears, now running freely down my face. “God, Tina, I’m so sorry – so sorry…”
We cried together. Neither of us was strong; neither of us was comforting the other and yet, we took some solace in our shared emotion. To know that she recognized the weakness in me – in herself – was overwhelming. For every moment during these past weeks, I had fought to keep my feelings in check, to rein in the turmoil that had run rampant throughout my necessarily ordered life. There was a freedom that shivered through my body in being able to hold her; to cry openly and loudly and honestly. I was dispossessed, stripped of all the heavy amour I had tried so hard to hide behind. The one truth was that I loved her and wanted her and needed her. And exhausted by my efforts to deny that one single truth, I slumped in her arms and she in mine, both of us supporting the other.
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Billy Bob says “Ah laahk the way yoo wraaht.”
I swear you have an insight on Bette and Tina that is amazing. That was starkly honest and realistic. And I loved how you incorporated the new promo into it. Well done, Gaymo!
Ohhh Gaymo this whole story has totally pulled at my heart strings, your writing style is amazing and it leaves my heartbreaking for the lost love between Tibbete.
You have a fantastic way of capturing and putting into words the rollercoster of emotions that a couple go through when something like this happens, the feeling of wanting to stay but at the same time knowing that you have to let go.
Soo sad but yet so captivating at the same time, thank you !!
So very sad. Love hurts so terrible sometimes. Thanks
I need to comment one more time. I hate Tina. Happy? Now bring back that loving feeling I have for her by continuing your story in Part 3 or I am heading to the empire state building an jumping off!
sad…intense…so very well written
I’ve decided to paint my body in the L Word colors and leap off a tall building. I’ll be calling your name the whole way down though, gaymo. My sincerest hope is that the next chapter materializes before I become one with the ground. My guts have already been torn out, so I’m thinking I might be a bit aerodynamic. That should buy me some time, no?
Gaymo, please. My guts are begging you. The ground I will be splattering on begs you. My loins beg you.
I’d love to compliment this like a normal person but you’ve rendered me child-like and I can’t find the appropriate words.
Gaymo, you are my literary goddess. Yes, I worship many, but for this story, you get extra fucking candles. :D Amazing. Absolutely amazing.
Heartbreaking. It’s a beautiful Sunday afteroon and I read this and feel sad and dejected. Please don’t leave it like this. As I have said before, use your enormous talent for good…put them back together, please.
Everything emotion you wrote is so plausible. But it doesn’t have to stay this way. I hope you will continue and show the maturity of these two women who so desparately and completely love each other. Forgiveness is a character trait that hasn’t been taught enough. Love is not about getting even, it’s about forgiveness. Your story—simply BEAUTIFUL.
Absolutely stunning.
sad…so sad…super heartbreaking sad…
Did you enjoy reaching in and twisting my guts? Did you?? Excellent chapter. You are awesome.
Gaymo, you have the “IT” factor of a brilliant writer. It was a true pleasure to read!!!!!!! I hope you continue to dazzle us with your gift…
Speechless…wow…omg…awesome…bravo!!
That was a great story.
This was Outstanding, Amazingly written, the raw emotions running all over. I totally take a bow. bravo!!!!
Um, gaymo? I’d really like to eat lunch today. But I don’t like, have any guts. *voice going up at the end* So, if you could write more of this story and give them back, my body would appreciate it.
I mean, sure. I look all skinny without my guts but I can’t let that sway me in my begging for a positive resolution to this crotch-kicker of a story.
Until then, I’ll be renting myself out to carnivals as Gaymo’s Gutless Wonder. Any and all proceeds will go towards whatever you need to complete this story. :D
*stares longingly at her lunch* :D
5 stars, again. And again. And again. And again….