Date: Sun, 7 Jan 2001 00:55:11 -0500 From: BlairBoy Subject: Petals of Love Disclaimer: This story is completely fictional it in no way suggests the sexuality of any character within its contents. This is pure fiction. If offended by it then don't read on. Petals of Love By Crunk He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me...yes! I was playing the game. I would spend my nights peeling the petals away from the stem, and litter the floor. I always ended up on the petal that said he loved me. He couldn't love me. Could he? I never thought that he did. Oh, but I wished it. For as long as I can remember, I've wanted him. Not just his body, but also his mind, his heart, and his soul. I had been getting a feeling that lately he felt the same, but then, then he had to go and date Her, and kiss Her, and love Her. I mean, I was so sure that he loved me. And then, well, to put it bluntly, he broke my heart. I don't think he meant to. He is too wonderful to do that. He didn't know that he was hurting me. So, even though I know he's with her on the couch, I still play my little game, and pretend things are different. I can feel his eyes on me. He's too smart to know that I'm actually enjoying this game. He knows that I'm hiding something. Oh great. He's telling her to leave the hotel room we're in. And he's walking over here. Step. Breath. Step. Breath. He's beside me now. I hope he doesn't say anything, or I might just have to kiss him. "Joe, buddy, you okay?" I try to muster up a smile, but it ends up looking bitter. Buddy? I guess he really DOESN'T love me. A tear forms in my eyes, and I wipe it away. I won't let him do this to me. He isn't worth me. I try to convince myself, but the thought of me in his arms (like I am in my dreams) keeps floating back into my mind. "Joe, if you want to talk I'm here..." He trails off. I think that he's mad I won't confide in him. How the hell do I do that? Just confess and tell him I'm madly in love with him? Do I just waltz up to him and say my deepest thoughts. I can't do that. He walks away, and lays on the bed beside mine. He reaches for the remote, and I think of the flower. It always said that he loved me. I decide to talk to him. "Justin." His hand retracts, and goes behind is head, to support it. "Yeah, Joe?" I smile, and can't believe I'm doing this. "Have you ever fallen in love with someone, even though you know you can't have them?" He smiles weakly. "Is that all that's bothering you?" I nod and he chuckles. "Why would you think you couldn't have them? If you put your mind to it, you can have anything." Oh God, he isn't getting it. He's so naive, and that's just another of is wonderful traits. "They love someone else." He sits up, and swings his legs over the side of the bed. "Are you sure?" Am I sure? I think so. " Pretty sure, J. I mean, they don't act like they like me." He nods. "Well, do you act like you like them?" Good question, do I? I probably don't. But how do I? He loves Her, and I can't stop it. "No, I guess not. But, Justin, it isn't as easy as that." He shakes his head, and speaks some words of wisdom. "You've never had a problem with the ladies before." Oh dear, how do I tell him the problem is not with a lady. It's with him. Oh no, I can feel the tears coming. I'm going to cry. Shit. Maybe I can stop it. Fuck, the tears are falling. He's not doing anything. He's watching me, and I just want to kiss those full lips of his. Watching him watch me is making the tears fall even harder. He gets up and goes to the door. "I'm sorry, Joe. I didn't mean to make you cry. I hope that you feel better soon. I don't know if you want company, but if you do, then don't hesitate to find me. I'll be on the roof." He sounds sad. But that's not my problem right now. I HAVE to tell him. If I don't, I'll end up losing him even more. "Don't go." He turns away from the door, and smiles at me. He sits back on the bed, and fidgets. "Stop that." He smiles. "Boy, you just seem to be full of commands today. Anything else I can get for you, King Joey?" That brings a smile to my face. He grins and claps his hands. "Ah, there it is. The smile most of America adores." I smile even more, and he grins wider. "Feel up to telling me why you cried at what I said?" The mood immediately stiffens. I shake my head no. He doesn't need to hear it. He doesn't want to hear that one of his "brothers" loves him like a lover. He doesn't want to hear it, but I do. I want to tell him, but telling him will hurt him. Do I want to hurt him? If I don't hurt him, I hurt me. "If I tell you, I will hurt you. And I don't want to do that." I can tell in his mind he thinks I went after Her. His Her. "It has nothing to do with her, Justin. This is a me and you type thing." He swallows, "A me and you type thing?" I nod. "You don't want to hear this." He shakes his head, as if urging me on. "I don't want to hurt you." The look on his face is the most adorable face I've ever seen. "You won't hurt me. No matter what you say, you can't hurt me more than you already are, by not telling me. I am your best friend, Joe. Why won't you tell me?" I shrug. He urges me on, and rests a hand on my knee. Oh Lord, how can I tell him how I feel with his hand where it is. I stare at it, the spot on my knee, until he retracts his hands. "I love you." I whisper. He doesn't hear me. "Come again?" How can I say that again? I just told him, and he didn't hear. Taking another breath, I decide to repeat it. I mean, if the flower says he loves me, then he loves me. "I love you." This time it's louder, and more confident. "Is that all? I mean, we all love you, Joe. If that's what this is about, then I can honestly say I love you too." I shake my head. He doesn't get it. I get up off the bed, and head to the door. I tell him, "I didn't mean it like that." His face registers, and he drops the smile that's been there for a while. He shakes his head, and I know that he doesn't love me. And he never will. I walk out the door. My security guard is asleep and I see no need to wake him. I go outside the hotel, and take a breath of fresh air. I circle the building, and see a garden in the back. I walk over to it, and pick off a flower, that was finished blooming. Smiling to myself I play the game. The only thing I have to hold on to. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. I gasped. There was only one petal left. A tear falls, and my fate seems to be sealed. He loves me not.