Fan Fiction
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The Telling
She had told me that she wanted some time to think. That scared me. Thinking time to realize the true deception of my actions; time to consult others and hear their sharpened breaths of disapproval and their narrowed gaze as they contemplated what I’d done. We’d always said – I’d always said that duplicity crumbled the foundations of a relationship, in that blank way I had of seeing things in black and white. She was always about gray areas, unable to categorize people the way I did, and yet here she was, leaving our seven years derelict and hazardous in the aftermath of what I’d done to her. To us. I sat in front of the bedroom mirror, looking at the shadings of fatigue and worry underneath my eyes and remembered when she had told me that my principles were part of what she loved about me so much. I felt it then; the pain in my chest as I had been shot with my own bolt. So much for principles. So much for moralizing and perpetuating the notion that I could be the person she wanted to love. As my shoulders slumped and I again succumbed to tears, I was aware only of the fact that she was, inevitably, really, and utterly gone.
One bright morning, I was sitting by the pool, laptop in front of me and entirely ensconced in the machinations of the CAC, where I knew I was doing my utmost just to keep things afloat. As spreadsheets and memos that had gone unreturned flickered on the screen before me, I tried to ignore the small patch of garden that had been untended for several weeks. The weeds that were usually kept at bay had entwined themselves around the order of the plants in the soil, leafy tendrils closing over strong stems and slowly squeezing, threatening to choke the flourishing seedlings that she had cared for since their infancy. The pool glistened in the wake of the path that the sun was cutting through the clear blue sky, bright shards of luminescence glittering like fierce tears over ripples that a faint breeze was breathing on the water.
Closing the laptop, I leaned back in the pool chair and closed my eyes, feeling the warming heat of the sun on my face and bare shoulders. I was tired. Throwing myself into my work had failed to assuage the lead guilt in the base of my body, creeping up my spine and slowing every movement towards living that I was trying to make. I knew that I was late; I had a meeting this afternoon with some would-be investors and my presentation to them was currently languishing, unread and uncommitted, on my laptop. James had already called my cell phone three times and his enthusiasm was impressive, but it was as though I was seeing everything from a distance. My work; my passion; my lust for success…it still mattered, but I just wasn’t sure why I was doing it any more. For the last seven years, I’d always rejoiced in the mutual successes we shared and my own dizzy heights were ones from which I could survey the life we had together. Now I felt as though I was gazing down on a wasteland. The detritus of the relationship lay wounded and broken and it was all my doing, my blame, my guilt, my shame.
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(85 votes, average: 3.95 out of 5)
gaymo, your writing is exceptional. Great job!
Gaymo, very nice, as good as the first time but where is part 2. Don’t tease its not kind :0. Who is on the cell phone?
Whao, that was great, no worries about bruising, because that was phenomenal. Well written, you should continue.
You have a great handle on the way words flow and an excellent vocabulary. The sentences take on a languid quality which reflects Bette’s inertia very well. Perhaps dividing this into chapters would make it easier for those of us with short attention spans.
Five stars and two cold showers (at least). That was HOT, gaymo, and beautifully written.
Wow! This is excellent writing! I wish i could write as beautiful as this!!! Keep em coming please..
I can’t remember where I’ve read this before………but, that’s not important…….I just want more……please! ;D 5-stars
incredible writing. i don’t think you need to worry about bruising when you write like this. fantastic, please write more. thanks! :)
Gaymo..this is absolutely great…more soon….and i love the name..”You big gaymo…” hehehehe
Does the end mean the end or TBC. That was womderful,well written. Letting us know that Tina still loves Bette,but can’t be with her because of all the hurt. Thanks
amazingly written, well done!
This is extraordinary. I loved it the first time I read it and have been longing for a next chapter ever since. Please follow this up with something–ANYTHING!
Gaymo, that was some excellent storytelling. Man…pick me up off of the floor!
This was incredible. As I was reading, I kept thinking that this can only end badly, but I couldn’t stop from reading it anyway…one hand periodically hitting the down arrow button on my keyboard, the other clenching the arm of my chair. Thanks!
WoW! The flow was great, the vivid imagery was very well used and the internal thoughts are well written, graciously weaved into the whole story. Articulate and clear language. Very well done. Like JB said, sex can be a lot of things, it can be about power, reconnection, and other things… and yours have been graciously and beautifully written to reflect as reconnecting as well as asking for forgiveness.
wow. totally impressive writing!!!!
This is sooooooo good, Gaymo. And I know the American went back home so you should have plenty of time to write more for us. Put the Bailey’s down and get busy.
holy hootin’ hell! That was AMAZING! you capture their pain and just, wow, just that’s crazy good. I’m floored really, so glad to read some quality BT emotional storytelling. I hope this isn’t the end for this story!!
oh my goodness, you made me cry. you write very visually i can just see bette’s heart breaking… who is on the phone? will you please write a part 2? you’re really doing a wonderful job
Please let it be Tina on the phone. Just asking for some more time. Anything to ease this ache. You are sooooo good at this, gaymo!!
Absolutely wonderful writing – you capture the conflict of continuing love with the pain of betrayal so wonderfully. Exceptional
I’m never writing again. I swear to god. Anything I could come up with would be like lining up a hand tracing that became a turkey with a New York Times best-seller. :D To say this was incredible would be an insult. I still feel the ache in my chest. Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, please write more. Soon. Now? :P 5 stars!!
Hahah cramit! i was thinking the same thing.. right now i feel like i couldnt write anymore… All i want to do is wait for the next chapter… :D Gaymo please write soon… dont let your Portard family down!
Exceptionally well written.
That was incredible. Again i say, I don’t know how you guys do it.
I just don’t know what else to say. That was just great!!
Could you please use your wonderful literary and writing talent for good…and put them back together? Your story has moved me to tears.
wow!
Oh my god!
How great is that story, it moved me so much with your expression and use of words, ( i even shed a few tears) you are truely a great writter, keep up the good work.xxx
Just wanted to reiterate my desperate need for you to continue this story. The ache while reading this……it’s still unbelievable. Your writing is amazing. Please, please continue this. :)
that was amazing, seriously. amazing. thank you