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    The Telling

    "I can’t do this anymore, Bette," she said, her words deliberate and empty of the emotion that normally accompanied everything she had ever said to me.  "This isn’t good for either of us, you know that."  Her gaze dropped from my face to the pile of clothes underneath me on the bed and she narrowed her eyes briefly before shaking her head gently.  "I’ll come back for this stuff later on," she told me decisively.  "Just put it to one side and I’ll collect it when you’re not around."

    Standing up tall in front of the chest of drawers, she smoothed down the invisible wrinkles in her skirt and pushed at her hair once more.  It was all so very choreographed, so perfect, so much a part of the woman I had fell in love with; the woman who was now preparing to walk out of my life for the last time.  A part of me was immobilized with sheer panic, spreading ice-like throughout my body and bleeding into my veins with the certainty of cold, but my mind was racing, flying past any thought of rationality and falling headlong into a chasm of instinct.

    As she passed by me I caught her arm at the wrist, closing my fingers around the slender limb and halting her progress.  For a second she tugged in the opposite direction but I knew I was stronger.  I knew I could be stronger.

    "Let me go," she said quietly, her voice barely audible.

    I shook my head, getting to my feet.  If this was my last chance, I was going to take it, just like I always did.

    "Bette," she sighed heavily, "let me go.  You have to let me go."

    "No," I answered firmly.

    "This is ridiculous!"  She tugged once more at the grip I had on her and I felt a faint sense of panic come off her in waves, almost encouraging my recklessness.  "Jesus, Bette, this is just *****’ stupid!"  Her voice was colored with anger and resentment, fueling my own disregard for the conventions of civility and politeness that we had egregiously created between us.

    "You leaving me is ***** stupid!" I barked at her, a shroud of retaliation descending over my vision, blurring it so that nothing else existed but her and me.  "I made a mistake, Tee. I fucked up, okay?"  I realized I was shouting, but I didn’t care anymore.

    Comments

    1. 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.

    2. 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

    3. 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!

    4. 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!

    5. 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.

    6. 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.

    7. 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!!

    8. 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

    9. 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!!

    10. 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!

    11. 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

    12. 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. :)

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