Date: Sat, 27 Oct 2007 05:40:25 -0500
From: Retta Michaels <rettamichaels@gmail.com>
Subject: Write Me A Love Story

Write Me A Love Story


By


Retta Michaels


Disclaimer:

If you are under the age of 18, or you are in a locale which it's illegal
to read these sorts of stories, then please leave and come back when you
can do so legally.

Note from Retta:

Interestingly, the guide for this story came to me while walking through
the grocery store. It hit me because I saw my name (I thought) on the
bookshelf.

It was Fern Michaels. I'd never heard of her before and went home to look
up her name on the web. The woman wrote 'Pretty Woman'!

Anyways, as I walked through the rest of that store, I came out with two
very different ideas for stories and the knowledge another writer had the
Michaels last name.

Chapter 1


"Bye Mom... Yeah, I'll be careful....Yes, I know where the key is...Yes,
I'll clean up after myself...And, yes, I'll get plenty to eat....O.k.,
Mom, I'll get plenty of rest...I love you too. "

As I hung up the phone, I thought to myself that I'd finally have a
chance to get everything thought through I'd not had time to think about
since David left.

My relationship with Dave was one of the most embarrassing events in my
life. Yeah, I pursued him, and yes, I moved him in after only one date,
but he seemed right for me at the time.Now, after finally getting rid of
him, I realized what a mistake he had been in my life.

It all started so casually. We went to the casino to enjoy the evening
and he was there all smiles. So dashing, and appearing to be so good
looking.

I carried conversation with him which wasn't like me. He smiled, I smiled
and soon, I'd invited him out for a date.

He offered to pick me up at my place and I gave him my address.
Afterwards, my mom looked at me and said, "He's gay!"

I smiled and said, "I hope, I just got a date with him!"

The first date, we went out to eat and chatted amicably. His interests
were varied and we seemed to really hit it off. When the date was over, I
offered him to come in and he accepted.

When we got through the door, our lips and hands were all over each
other. As soon as we came up for air, he turned around and in his best
Bette Davis voice he quipped, "What a dump!" That is when I should have
thrown him out.

Instead, we carried conversation into the living room and the systematic
total devastation of my life began.

Now, I'm 9 months older and he is finally out of my life. It only took
him hating everything about me for him to lay his hands on me once too
often.

It happened in the middle of the night. We were laying in bed sleeping
and I was having the best dream of my life. A hot blond and I were making
out and we were really getting into it when I suddenly awoke and found
myself being squished by his balls. He had climbed over me in a 69
position so that I could return the favor when I awoke.

It didn't work out that way. Me waking up and finding myself no longer
with the hot blond and feeling like I was being suffocated by a pair of
nuts, I pushed him up off me and got out of bed.

He might have thought he was being romantic, but all I felt was violated.
Had the situation been consensual, I probably would have found it
romantic, but waking to him and not the blond, I was pissed.

After telling him to stay on his side of the bed, we lay back to back and
I told him, "Dave, I'm not happy. Something's got to change and it just
can't be only me."

He didn't turn to face me, he only said, "There you go again, being the
bitch you always are."

I put my hand behind me upon his hip and then WHAM! He brought his fist
down and nearly broke my wrist.

Something inside me snapped. For the first time in 9 months, I finally
was fed up with everything going his way and him running out the door
when it came time for me to voice my feelings..

I got up out of bed and said, "Ok motherfucker, if that's the way it's
going to be, then you're going to find out I'm not like my mother. She
took my dad hitting her whenever he damned well felt like it and I always
hated him for it. You're going to find out when you think you're big
enough to hit me, I'm big enough to whip your ass."

I snapped on the light and went over to the bed and began throwing
punches.

Somewhere in the melee, he said, "I thought it was the dog. That bitch is
always jumping up on the bed."I said, "If it had been the dog, she'd be
dead now because with how hard you hit me, it would have crushed her
skull and believe me, if it had been her...and if she'd died, they'd find
parts of your body between here and Kansas City."

By the time I got control of myself, I had him by the throat and said,
"I'm going to let you up. You're going to pack your shit and you're going
to get out. If I have to help you pack your shit, it will go out the
bedroom window all over the front yard, but one way or another, you're
leaving this house tonight."

He lay there and said, "I'll leave in the morning, I'm tired. I'm going
to sleep."

Apparently, that wasn't the answer I was looking for. I went over and
threw up the window and yanked the screen slider into the bedroom. I went
over to the closet and grabbed all the clothes on his side of it and
walked over to the window.

I looked over to him and he said, "Just turn out the light when your done
and get back in bed."

I threw the clothes out the window.

I said, "Dave, you want to sleep? You sleep in your truck after you clean
the clothes out of my front yard.."

I then went to the closet and grabbed every pair of shoes of his I could
carry and returned to the window. I threw them out and made the return
trips necessary until the closet was empty.

I said, "Dave, you have about 5 fucking seconds to get out of that bed
before I find the strength to carry your ass to this window and get rid
of you too. Now get up and get the fuck out!"

He got up and while grabbing his clothes to get dressed off the side
chair, he said, "You were never a good lay and I don't see why I
tolerated you this long."

I laughed and said, "Me...never a good lay! Dave, you're such a liar why
should I believe that too! Get out and just stay the fuck gone. I'll have
the locks changed in the morning."

Dave left, and as I heard his truck scream down the street, I lay on the
bed and cried.

The next morning, my wrist wasn't any better. It throbbed and hurt like
hell. I knew it wasn't broke because I'd had broken bones before and I
never heard the "Pop" which reverberates throughout your body when a bone
breaks. Just the same, I went to my friend Monica's house as she is an
LPN.

Monica took one look at me and said, "What the hell has happened now! You
really need to dump that bastard."

I sat down and said, "He's gone."

She looked at me and said, "For real!"

I smiled and then told her the story. She went and got an ice pack for my
wrist and said, "Hon, it's probably not broken, but it looks bruised as
hell."

When I left Monica's, I went home to make the phone call to my mom. She
was sympathetic and said, "Dave thinks you're going to cool off and he
says he'll give you time to regain your senses before he attempts to
speak to you."

I told her, "Mom, Dave is out of my life. For once, I'm not going to bend
anymore and Dave needs to learn I'm not going to be the pushover he's
always thought me to be. It's best he just stay gone. Do you mind if I
take some time and go to your place down in Branson so I can recoup."

She said, "Well, why don't you invite Dave down and you two try to
rekindle what you had."

I said, "Mom, you don't get it. Dave is gone and I'm going to recoup and
rekindle what I have with me. For too long, I've let him walk all over me
and rather than be a doormat, I'm just going to figure out what I need
and not what everyone else thinks I need."

She said, "Well, you've got a key, so go ahead and go on down. When I
speak to Dave, I'll tell him it's safe to go up and get the rest of his
things."

I said, "Mom, you tell Dave anything else I find will be left on the
front porch and the locks are changed. It's not his house and if he is
found entering it, he'll be prosecuted for trespassing and breaking and
entering."

She started to say something and I said, "Mom, if you want him to have a
place to live, give him a room at your house. When he systematically
fucks up your life, then I'll be out to finish him off. Just pass that
word to him and I'll be sure to keep mine. O.k.?"

She said, "Jeremy, you don't need to use that sort of language with me."

I said, "Mom, your hearing is pretty good for what you don't want to
hear. Now, how about hearing what I have to say. Dave is out of my life
and no amount of wheedling is going to put him back into it. O.k.?"

She gasped and said, "I've never allowed you to use that tone of voice
with me before and I sure won't tolerate it now."

I said, "Mom, maybe there was a time I really cared what you thought, but
today is not one of those. Dave had no right to go to you and if you want
to play his side, then you can take the shots I've got to give. I'll get
off the phone and by this afternoon, I'll be ready to go to Branson."

She said, "Jeremy, I don't know what's gotten into you, but I really hope
you have an attitude adjustment by the time you return."

I said, "Mom, I love you and oh I really plan on having one by the time
I'm back...believe me on that."

That afternoon after my second phone call with her, I hit the road and
realized what freedom actually meant. Driving, singing along with the
radio, and finally breathing a breath of clean air.

Six hours and 2 gas stops later, I pulled into the cabin's driveway and
turned off the engine. I got out my luggage and went into the cabin.

It was a little place. Two bedrooms on one side of a large living room
and on the other side a kitchen and bathroom. All the features of a
vacation house and the best a 24' x 36' could give. On the road side, a
small concrete pad approximately, 3 foot square and on the lake side, a
deck which ran the length and 12 foot out. Dad's bar-b-que grill and a
round picnic table with 4 chairs on it.

Through the years, the cabin had received it's furnishings as mom and dad
had gotten newer pieces. It was like home just the older one I
remembered.

I went to the bedroom and places my luggage upon the bed. In my haste to
leave, I failed to remember how cold Branson could get in April. The days
were sunshiny and beautiful and the evenings could lay on a coat of
frost.

I turned on up the heat and after about a half an hour of realizing no
heat, I went to the furnace to find the propane tank was empty. I decided
to hell with it and went to bed with a few extra blankets. It wasn't
until I lay down I realized I had forgotten to bring Gypsy. The poor dog
probably had piddles all over the house and I'd have to drive back up
there to get her tomorrow.

Somewhere in thinking about how the day had went, I fell asleep.

The next morning, I got up and realized the second mistake of my trip. No
propane meant no breakfast and no hot water for the shower.

I went into the bedroom, grabbed my clothes and got dressed. On the way
back home, I stopped at a Hardee's and got breakfast. While there, I
called mom and asked her who filled the propane tank. She looked it up
for me and then told me she'd call and have it filled. I told her I would
pay for it as I didn't know how long I'd be down there.

She said, "Jeremy, you know you just can't up and leave everyone at your
job wondering where you've disappeared to. You need to call them and give
them a clue."

I said, "Mom, it's the slow time of the year. How many swimming pools
need sold in April?"

She said, "Jeremy, it's always been like you to be so irresponsible, so
just make the call and have it done with. Those people aren't mind
reader's you know."

I rung off and then called my work. I said, "Chet? Hi, This is Jeremy.
Yeah, I won't be in to work for a while. No, I don't know how long. Well,
Chet, if you need someone in the next week, just consider this my phone
call telling you I'm quitting. No, I really don't need the money. No, I'm
not joking. Yeah, I'm serious my house is paid for and the bills per
month aren't enough to really worry about as my inheritance has it
covered. Yeah, you have a good season too Chet. I think this is for the
best."

Once I hung up, I smiled and blessed my grandma's soul. The insurance
policy she'd bought each of us grandchildren before she died easily made
my world brighter. It may not seem like much to some people's standards,
but it didn't take much more than $500 a month for me to live
comfortably. I received that much at least a week from the inheritance
investments.

Driving back home, I again enjoyed the day and sang along with the radio.
There's a country song called, "Thank God For The Radio", all I could say
was Thank God For The Sirius as Missouri's hills made the radio about
worthless.

When I got home, I found Dave had been kind enough to leave a nasty letter
taped onto the front door telling me how he was going to charge me for
the dry cleaning bill as all his clothes were now ruined. I made it a
point to call his cell phone and tell him I'd gladly pay for the dry
cleaning, but he should just go ahead and take it off the bills I'd never
charged him for the entire time he lived off me. He hung up on me and I
took that as a sign we were even.

Gypsy looked rather pissed at me, but gladly ran out to the car and got
in. She took up her position riding shotgun on the floorboard of the
passenger side and gave me a look like she thought I was making the wise
decision to get rid of Dave.

We again drove to Branson and after a few more gas stops, arrived at the
cabin again near 10 pm. This time, the heat was on in the cabin and I
made it a point of calling my mom and thanking her for the call to the
propane dealer.

She was a bit more sociable on the phone and told me Dave had called her
and told her I was being totally unreasonable so therefore, we were
through. I couldn't help but chuckling and said, "Well, maybe this time
he'll find a better spill to sponge off of."

That comment once again brought reproach by mom and I said, "Mom, it's
been a long day, I'm going to ring off now and save the battery on my
phone. I'll give you a call when I do have my head screwed on right, but
don't count on it for a long time."

As Gypsy and I settled into bed, I pet her and said, "Gyp, be thankful
you're a dog and just don't have a life like mine. Things are going to
change old girl and I'm afraid everyone's not going to like them." She
gave me a pant and a smile and then curled up at the foot of the bed.

The next morning, I decided to get up and go to the store. The supplies
in the cabin were sparse and if I was going to be staying there, I'd
really need to have something besides fast food in my system. Gyp gave me
a look which told me to be sure to get something good for her too and I
added Kibbles & Bits to the list.

The grocery store was small and the only excitement I could say I saw
while on my outing was a few of the stars from the shows shopping for
their food too. Branson is so laid back, I imagine they could shop like
normal people and not be harassed.

When I got back, I let Gypsy out and she went around the cabin and did
her dog duties. I put away groceries and afterwards, I decided to go to
the lake to see if the boat was able to start.

Gypsy came down to see what I was doing and when the motor caught, I told
her to jump in and then cast off the lines holding it to the dock. We
took a leisurely float up the lake and then we arrived at a nice little
restaurant. I stopped to see if it was open, but saw the sign said it was
closed for the season. Gyp looked at me as if to say, "I could have told
you that!" and I said, "Gyp, no bones today, so go ahead and lay down."

We went back down the lake to the cabin and once we cast on the lines to
the dock, she again took to her dog duties and went out sniffing to see
if anything had happened by since we'd left. By the time I'd made it to
the cabin, she was waiting at the door, so I knew she'd not found
anything amiss.

For lunch, I fried bologna sandwiches and gave Gyp a few slices. She
appeared more interested in mine as it had been melted in the middle of
grilled cheese, but once she figured she wasn't getting any, she ate
hers.

That afternoon, I took my laptop and went to the dock. I took a lawn
chair with me and decided to sit out there as the sun was shining
brightly upon it. I propped my foot up on one of the pier posts and
leaned back in the chair as I found a link. It was high speed and a good
strong connection.

I began to type on a story I had begun a few months earlier which was a
gay erotic novel I'd poured all my fantasies into. It was decent, but
nothing which even remotely appeared in my life. Families loved each
other and the lead character found the man of his dreams and all was
well. They were retired and out in a motorhome traveling the country at
their leisure. As I typed, Gyp lay about my feet and enjoyed the sunlight
too.

I'd been typing along for an hour when I realized the battery on my
laptop was starting to wain. I decided to take a break and when I put the
lawn chair back upon all fours,

I got up and stretched. I looked over to a dock approximately 50 feet
away and saw someone typing away on their laptop. He appeared entranced
in his typing and didn't notice me. I started to head in and he said, "I
hope yours was as good as mine!"

I said, "Oh!"

He said, "My link."

I said, "Yeah, mine was good. Someone around here must have a wireless
router."

He smiled and said, "That must be me."

I said, "Oh, well I apologize for the trespass."

He laughed and said, "It's o.k., I don't believe I've seen you around
here before."

I said, "My parents own it and they've had it for years. The only time
I've been able to come down in the past 20 years has been in the summer
time with them. Usually I don't stay but a weekend. This time, I just
needed to get away on my own. This was the first place I thought of."

He stood up and headed my direction. I stepped off the dock and decided
to save him the trip and meet him halfway. Each of us carrying laptops in
one hand against our sides only had one hand left which we used to shake.
As I shook his hand, I looked into his eyes and said, "Hi, I'm Jeremy
Turner."

He said, "My name is Stu. Stuart Reddington....really Stuart Reddington
the third, but who's counting!"

I chuckled and as I stared at his eyes, I hadn't realized I was still
holding his hand. When I did, I said, "Oh, I'm sorry." He smiled and
said, "Jeremy, don't be. I was looking into your eyes just as much as you
were mine."

I smiled and said, "Stu, would you like to join Gyp and I for dinner? I'm
about to go to the cabin to see what I can cook up."

He said, "Sure, do you mind if I bring my laptop and use an outlet? Then,
I can go home and hit it again."

I said, "Something important?"

He laughed and said, "Only in my mind, but for a few others, they enjoy
reading my work."

I said, "Oh really? What do you write for?"

He laughed and said, "Oh, it's nothing like that. I write for a website
and that's it.You've probably never read anything I've written."

I looked at him and said, "What site?"

He blushed and said shyly, "Well, it's gay erotic."

I said, "Wow! How uncanny is that! You're over on your dock writing gay
erotica nad I was over here writing my own story!"

He looked at me and laughed and said, "So, you're gay!"

I said, "Well, as of yesterday morning, I was, but now I'm single."

He laughed and said, "So, you just broke up with someone?"

I said, "Stu, in order to be in love with someone, you have to be in love
with them. Me, I was in love with him. He was in love with what he could
use and take. I finally figured it out about 4 am yesterday morning and
threw him out after he hit me."

Stu looked alarmed and said, "He hit you?"

I said, "Stu, it was the first time and it will be the last time. My mom
took abuse from my dad and all the years it occurred, I grew up with it.
Finally, she got reprieved from it when he wrapped their car around a
telephone pole coming home drunk."

Stu said, "Oh, I'm sorry!"

I said, "Stu, I'm not. When Dave hit me, it was the final straw. Our
relationship began with him telling me what a dump my house was and for
the entire nine months we lived together, each day was me getting told
how I just wasn't good enough for him. The whole time, I was too blind to
see he was using me for a place to live and not sharing one bill. He
bought one dinner out once a week and that was it. He brought home just
as much as I did, but I paid the bills and he socked his away. The only
thing he did was pay off his truck."

Stu said, "Jeremy...you got screwed bud!"

I said, "Stu, as he left the house, he even had nerve enough to tell me I
wasn't any good in that department."

Stu laughed and said, "Jeremy, I hope you didn't believe him!"

I said, "Stu, the man lied so much of course I didn't. If I started
telling you all the lies I caught him in, you'd be sitting here for a
long time."

Stu sat down and said, "Jeremy, I'm all ears. It sounds like you need to
get the man out of your system."

I said, 'Stu, let me delete that file and just let it go."

He laughed and said, "O.k. So, talk to me. Tell me what your story is
about. I'm curious."

I laughed and said, "After dinner, how about I read yours and you read
mine. I'm sure you'll get the worst part of that deal."

He laughed and said, "Jeremy, don't put yourself down. I'm sure yours has
potential."

I said, "Stu, I'll let you read it, but don't get your hopes up."

He laughed and said, "So, which site are you posting on?"

I said, "Stu, this is my first story. I enjoy reading all of them."

He said, "Have you read on Gay Authors, CrvBoy, Nifty, DeweyWriter, or
AwesomeDude?

I said, "Well, them amongst others. I'm probably the most well read
person I know due to Gay Erotic story sites."

He laughed and said, "Me too, but you want to know something funny?"

I said, "Sure."


He said, "You don't look to me like the typical Gay erotic story reader I
have pictured in my mind who reads my stories. You're cute!"

I turned and looked at him and said, "Stu, I'm not blond and I'm not
ripped, and I'm not hung, so I know I'm not what you and all of them
write about. I'm average, and that's about all I can say about me."

He laughed and said, "Man, Jeremy, you don't get it. I'm giving you a
compliment and you just took it and then continued to just tear yourself
down."

I looked down and said, "Stu, having a real high self esteem isn't
something I've got right now. I'm pretty much damaged goods dude and when
Dave didn't remind me I wasn't good enough, my mom made sure to let me
know how right Dave was."

He looked at me and said, "Jer, let me say this. Dave was full of shit
and I don't even know him. Yeah, Dave's the type of guy I write
about....as the bad guy but you won't find a guy like him in a one of my
stories where someone like him gets anything good. Now, you on the other
hand, you'd look like a character in one of my stories I did last year."

I said, "Oh, let's see...a Halloween piece."

He laughed and said, "Jeremy, no, it wasn't a Halloween piece. It was a
piece where the character's name was Niles."

I looked at him and said, "Stu, don't you even tell me who I think you
are!"

Stu laughed and said, "Well, that just tied my hands. Who do you think I
am?"

I smiled and said, "Oh jeez, do you save your emails you get where people
tell you you're the greatest author they think they've ever read?"

Stu laughed and said, "Jeremy, one second and I'll open my files. I save
them alphabetically by the email provider. Hotmail gets theirs, G-mail
gets theirs, Yahoo gets theirs, and so on and so forth. Which email
provider do you have?"

I said, "G-Mail. My nic on there is CanUGetIt."

I went over to my laptop and pulled up my email account. Surprisingly, I
found the signal was excellent in the cabin too. I opened up my sent
folder and pulled up the email I sent.

I got back up and then turned the steaks on the Jenn-Air. The aroma of
the steaks was good even though the downdraft was pulling most of it out
of the cabin.

Stu took a look at my email and said, "I remember this one, didn't I
write you back?"

I said, "Stu, I don't know. Dave and I shared that email account, and who
knows if you answered because if he read it, he would've probably deleted
it without telling me."

He said, "Jer, here's my answer, I found it and have it pulled up here.
It says, "

CanUGetIt,

Thank you for the kind words, I really appreciate you writing and your
opinions of my stories.

Please feel free to write me back after reading any story of mine as I'd
love to hear your opinion and feel free to tell me you don't like the
story. I sometimes learn more from people who've not liked my stories
than from those who do.

Most Sincerely,

The Red Writer

I said, "Stu, man, I can't believe you're Red Writer!"

He smiled and said, "Jeremy, I've been reading your story and I hate to
say it but I think yours is better than mine. It's real, the characters
are real, and the mental imagery I get from the words is so real I feel
I'm there.

I said, "Well, it's your typical, 'my life is shit, but after meeting the
right guy, it's suddenly better' sort of story."

He smiled and said, "I hadn't thought of it, but it is that."

I said, "Stu, that's the sort of story I really get into. I want to read
a story and when I'm done with it, I want to feel better. Not drug
through a knothole and depressed. Another thing I hate is cliff hangers."

Stu smiled and said, "We all want to feel like we're holding the reader's
attention. It's mostly a power trip sort of thing."

I laughed and said, "Well, that's something I just won't do. I'd rather
have the reader think well of me."

Stu laughed and said, "Jeremy, once people see your story, I'm sure
they're going to think good of you."

I got back up and took a look at the potatoes in the oven. I'd learned
that when I cooked for myself, I absolutely didn't eat right, but when I
had someone to cook for who appreciated it, I was a cooking fool.

With Dave, we ate out a lot because I sure didn't want to cook for
someone who would just tear down what I had worked hard on and not
receive the same in return.

But, maybe that was the reason I hadn't shown Dave my story. I knew he'd
find it frivolous and then tear it down.

While I was thinking all this, I got in the refrigerator and got out the
bag of salad. It wasn't much, but I wasn't planning on having company
over either. The salad would be sparse with just salad dressing on it.

I turned to Stu and said, "I hope you like ranch salad dressing because
that's all I've got."

He smiled and said, "Jeremy, I'm thankful to have a home cooked meal.
Usually, I go out to eat at a fast food place here on the strip."

I found the steak plates which mom and dad had gotten someplace at a
restaurant sale. They were the metal sort which rested upon wooden
carriers. I placed the metal plate on the grill nest to the steaks and
then went over to sit down. Stu was still reading my story and he said,
"Here, take a look at this one I've got written and see what you think.
It's not done and it's hardly ready to send to the site, but I think
you'll like it. It's one of my better stories."

I slid his laptop over and began reading the story. I had read about 5
minutes when I realized I'd forgotten the steaks.

I got up and went over to the stove and put the steaks on the plates. I
got the potatoes out of the oven and said, "Stu, do you want real butter,
or some of french onion dip on yours?" Just then, I realized I'd
forgotten to put in the french bread to warm.

I said, "One moment, these will have to go into the oven as I forgot the
french bread."

Stu smiled and said, "Jeremy, go ahead and put the plates on the table.
I'll help with the bread."

He went over to the refrigerator and said, "Do you want the dip on yours
or butter?"

I said, "I'm going to have butter on mine."

He put the butter on the table and then took a half loaf of the bread and
sliced it lengthwise. He buttered both sides and then put them into the
microwave for 30 seconds. In no time at all, he it beeped and he brought
it out to set on the table.

I walked over to the cupboard and pulled out two wine glasses and said,
"Would you like some wine with your dinner?"

He smiled and said, "Jeremy, do you eat this way all the time?"

I said, "Stu, No, I don't. I came down here to have a celebration of
getting on with my life and when I went to the store today, I decided I
was going to have some good food and cook for myself down here."

He smiled and said, "Well, you sure plan on doing it up right!"

I said, "Stu, for so long, I've been doing myself down wrong, so now it's
time to change directions."

We sat at the table and he said, "One moment, let me get these out of the
way.". He folded up the laptops and stacked them on top of each other on
a side chair. He then sat back down and said, "There that's much better.
I can see you to have a conversation."

I looked over at him and smiled. He said, "Stu, that smile is really
nice. You should do it more often and just forget about Dave."

I said, "Stu, the wound's still fresh and it's still stinging."

He said, "I could kiss it and make it feel better, but I don't think
that's what you need. I think it's going to take time for you to realize
exactly who it is you are and what you want."

He then paused and said, "Jeremy, what do you do for a living?"

I said, "Well, I'm recently unemployed. I used to work at a place which
installed swimming pools and sold pool supplies when I wasn't doing that.
My boss didn't think he could do without me for as long as I planned on
being down here and wanted me to rush right back. He just didn't take
into account I might not be willing to come back to work."

Stu smiled and said, "O.k., what is it you want to do with your life?"

I said, "Stu, I don't know, but enough about me, what about you? What do
you do for a living?"

He paused and said, "Well, in my spare time, I write stories. In my
professional life, I work at a show up on the strip. Have you ever heard
of the Viennese Waters?"

I said, "I've heard of the show, but I've never seen it."

He said, "Well, it's not much of a place really, but we have a show which
changes with the season and the upcoming holiday. For Christmas, we have
a Christmas show, and for Memorial Day and July 4 th, we have a show
which gets more patriotic. During the rest of the summer, we play music
which varies from classical to rock. We can go up to the building and I
can show you a show if you'd like?"

I said, "You have the keys to the place? They must really trust you!"

Stu smiled and said, "Jeremy, I kind of own the place. O.k.?"

I said, "Oh."

He laughed and said, "Jeremy, I'm really proud of it."

I said, "I didn't mean you weren't. I was just meaning....well...."

I don't know why I was suddenly compelled to not go with him to the show
because it really sounded fascinating, but something suddenly welled up
within me that I shouldn't go. I knew it would hurt his feelings as he
obviously was proud of the place and it sounded justifiably so, so I
couldn't explain the feelings.

Stu looked at me with concern and said, "It's someplace where the other
side of my creative self can be displayed freely and when I see the joy
and wonderment in people's faces, I know they appreciated the work which
went on to present it."

I smiled and said, "Wow, it's kind of like writing, huh?"

He said, "Yeah, but one of them, I can get immediate feedback and the
other I don't until someone like you writes a real sweet letter."

He paused and said, "Do you know why I write what I do in the return
letters, Jer?"

I said, "I don't know."

He said, "It's because I really appreciate the feedback but I'm also
aware the disclaimers might sometimes not stop a teenager who's confused
about his sexuality. He might write something to me one day and with my
return letter stating I'd like to hear more, it might give him the
confidence to read another which causes him to accept himself a little
more. The second highest rate of death amongst teenagers today is suicide
and as much as it's a stupid act, I know it's very real to that person.
Maybe if they write to me, I can get them to accept themselves a little
more and take the time to get to think things through, they'll go on out
of the confused years into the years where they get to know happiness."

I said, "Stu, I was one of those confused teens."

Stu looked at me and said, "Really?

I said, "Yeah, I felt all the feelings and I knew I was different. I went
to school and I looked in the showers. In the hallways, when everyone was
calling each other faggot, I knew they were all calling me that and each
day I wished I could be different. I'd lay in bed at night and I'd pray
it'd change and one day I'd wake up and see a girl and think she was hot.
It didn't happen.

So, one day I decided rather than to be a freak, I'd quit this life and
start over with the next one. I must've thought about every way I
could've to commit suicide. Finally one day, I decided today was going to
be the day.

Out in front of our high school was a major freeway. I decided I would go
down and walk out in front of a semi and just end it there. I had made it
to the high way and was ready to jump out when a guidance counselor by
the name of Alan Korf spoke. He said, "You better look out or you'll get
ran over."

I looked back and the look on my face apparently told him what I was
planning on doing. He came over and put his arm around me and told me I
wasn't alone and to come with him and he'd listen to me.

We went in the building and into his office. He sat me down and said,
"Tell me what's on your mind."

It was to the point it was like a damn burst within me. I told him
everything and I held nothing back. He didn't realize it, but that day he
saved my life."

Stu looked at me and said, "What happened to him? Is he still there?"

I said, "No, that's the sad part of it. At the end of the school year, he
died. He had an enlarged heart which he'd let go too long and it finally
exploded."

Stu said, "Damn, that's awful!"

I said, "Yeah, they named a gymnasium after him and now kids are going to
that gym and don't have a real clue who he was and how much he affected
others. I took it his purpose in life was to save mine and when that job
was over, he was take to heaven."

Stu smiled and said, "It does sound like an angel walked amongst us."

I said, "Stu, he was."

Stu said, "Jeremy, I'm going to do these dishes. Why don't you put the
laptops up on the chargers again and after I'm done, we'll go to the
strip and I'll show you my show."

He was already moving and apparently wasn't going to take no for an
answer. It wasn't that I was going to give him a no answer, but just the
same, it wasn't what I had planned for my evening.



Note From Retta:

This story is going to take me to a realm which probably many authors
won't go because it just doesn't sound believable. Hopefully, as I take
us there, you'll say, "Damn, this sounds believable and whew, I'd sure
like to be him."

To those of you who are used to my other sorts of stories, you're going
to be getting a little of that sort in with this story, but you're going
to be taken to a different level of my ability to tell a story. Please
ride with me on this adventure and I promise, we'll make it through in
one piece.

If you would like to write to me and give me opinion, please do so
constructively. I can take even bad opinions as long as there's a reason
behind the opinion. Simply writing in and saying, "You Suck" doesn't cut
it with me. Tell me why you think that, and what in the story brought you
to the conclusion.I might indeed agree with you on it and write
back..."Yup, big smackers" if your opinion is convincing.

If you love the story, all the better and please, puhleaze when you write
tell me what story you've read. It's hard to remember all my character's
names after writing these stories, so just their names aren't going to
cause me to say, "Oh, they just read that one!" Nope, amnesia sets in
when I am writing like 10 stories at once!

Once again, Thanks for reading and above all thank you for your time
reading it. I am someone who knows time is valuable and you could have
very well read someone else's work.


From My Keyboard To Your Heart,Retta
RettaMichaels@Gmail.com

Copyright Notice - Copyright October 2007 by RettaMichaels

The author, RettaMichaels copyrights this story and retain all rights.
This work may not be duplicated in any form, media, - known or unknown --
without the authors' expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws
apply.



Disclaimer: All individuals depicted are fictional, and any resemblance
to real persons is purely coincidental