My Sacrifice

This is a work of fiction. These things didn’t happen, as far as I know. Just a figment of my lurid imagination. I’m sure Creed didn’t have this in mind when they wrote the song. MsCimorene, 06~December~01

“Hello my friend we meet again,
It’s been a while where should we begin….feels like forever.
Within my heart are memories
Of perfect love that you gave to me.
I remember” ~ Creed

It had been five years since I’d seen him in person. This was his finest hour, his triumph. I had to see him, see if he was happy, content, if he finally had what he wanted. I promised myself I would only look, stay on the sidelines with the rest. Not try to catch his eye. Not be up front so he could see me. No, I didn’t want him to see me. I just wanted to see him, along with a couple of thousand other people.

There were reporters everywhere; cameras, lights, microphones. Curious people lined the barricades, pushing and shoving to get the best view. I stood off to the side where I could see the arrivals and stay out of the crowds. I was early. The main event didn’t start for an hour or so. Leaning against a light pole, I watched the growing crowd. They only knew the person he projected; the self-assured actor, the celebrated ladien, tn, the closet musician. I knew the little boy inside the man, who took delight in teasing his friends, and sharing a laugh. The one that loved unconditionally and unashamed. The I e I said goodbye to five years ago.

We’d both agreed it was for the best. Such words to end a relationship, “for the best”. For his best. Best for his career, best for his reputation, best in the long run. He was going off to be a big star now, he didn’t need a tag along to drag him down. It wasn’t said aloud, just the bare truth. I accepte bec because I had seen it coming. Our last night together he couldn’t quit talking about the new movie; how this one would launch his career, that now everyone would see him as a serious actor on an international scale, not just an Aussie boy wonder, another Mel. I finally told him to shut up, just shut the fuck up. Then he saw how he was hurting me. He apologized and pulled me into his arms. Rocking me as I cried, he mumbled nonsense about calling and writing. I didn’t believe him. When he cuts ties, they are forever cut. No going back, no taking up where we left off. Snip, all gone.
I
I shut him up by kissing him. We started tender, searching. It soon grew out of control. Mouths everywhere they could reach, hands tearing at clothes that soon disappeared so we could touch each other unhindered. Desperation, longing, sadness all intermingled to fuel our passion for each other. He was rough, I was accepting. I was demanding, he was giving. We tasted, and bit, and begged. I slid down to take him in my mouth, licking and sucking on the engorged head. He took it for a few minutes, but he was inpatient. He picked me up and turned me so I was on my hands and knees facing away from him. Grabbing my hips, he slid into me, not stopping until the entire huge length of him was sheathed. He paused for a moment, then started the long slow pace he was fond of and that drove me crazy. But somewhere along the way it changed. The pace quned,ned, his grip tightened, and the intensity of his thrusts grew. Soon he was slamming into me, hard angry thrusts that were beginning to hurt. I would be sore tomorrow, bruises on my body, but I let him keep going. Because I knew it wasn’t me he was angry at, and because of the hot tears falling on my back. At the moment of his cuming, he reached around to touch me and take me with him. We collapsed onto the floor, sweating and gasping for breath. It was my turn to console, wrapping my arms around him as he cried. Over and over he told me he was sorry, didn’t mean to hurt me. I just rocked him, telling him to shhhhh, it was all right.

We stayed like that for a while, holding each other and talking of nothing in particular. I looked at the clock and cursed. I needed to go. Pulling away I gave him one last kiss, long, sweet, full of the passion and pain I was feeling. He sat and watched me dress, saying nothing. I walked to the door, each step hesitant as I waited for him to say something, anything. Reaching for the handle, his voice stopped me. “You know I’ll be here for you, if you ever need me. I’ll always be here for you.” I didn’t turn around, I couldn’t. I turned the door handle. “Yes, I know.” I walked out without looking back. Until now.