AFTER THE MATCHMAKER by Magic Malcolm. (malcolm@malcolmcowan.co.uk)
Usual disclaimers apply. Don't read if you find the idea of two men being in love revolting. Don't read if you're under 18 (21 in some places), I don't personally mind if you are under-age, but they get so stuffy about stuff like this...Oh, and it's kinda angsty, so be warned.
Now, on with this story. Part Three of AFTER THE MATCHMAKER.
Part Three - The Truth Hurts
Thursday 28th November 2002 - AM
I'm only sure of a couple of things right now. One, I'm alone, and it looks like I'll be alone for a while.
Two, I'm fucking miserable.
It was him...the one person I thought I could trust with my heart, my soul...betrayed my trust. The tears won't stop either, and quite frankly I'm this close to becoming hysterical. I doubt I could say what I feel out loud right now without it becoming nothing more than incoherent babbling.
And he's not here to comfort me.
The worst part is...I'm not even sure I want him to be here to comfort me.
He came in last night to find me sitting at this computer, frantically searching for traces of how my journal came to be on the pages of that website. And he knew I was upset, because he started baby-talking to me. All I could do was hand over the print-out that Martin gave me...the print-out of my journal from that website.
"And I know it wasn't me that sent it to that website," I said, "And since you're the only other person who ever comes near this computer...I figured you might know something about it."
Looking back on it, I should have just stayed quiet. I knew right away from the expression on his face that something was terribly wrong. I didn't want to know then, but he told me...
"I sent it in."
Just like that. Blunt, and straight to the point...if that makes any sense. Emotions kind of took over at that point, I was hurt, angry, upset and felt sick inside. He continued on.
"It was just so well written," Bad timing for compliments, "And I wanted as many people as possible to know about it."
I tried to remain calm, really I did...but anger took over like the bitch it is.
"You didn't even ask me first...you just went behind my back and sent my personal file for the entire gay population to read! Those were PRIVATE journals, you didn't have the right even accessing them without my permission, let alone send them into a website!"
"Calm down love," Worse timing for caring, he should've backed off or apologized or something right then, "There's no good getting all worked over it."
"Excuse me? This is practically the worst thing you could have done to me, and you went ahead and did it. How can I ever trust you again?"
I regretted saying it then, and even more so now. I should've just shut up...
But I didn't. He tried to apologize then, and the tears began falling down my cheeks.
"Matt," He only called me 'Matt' if I was in this kind of state, "I know it was wrong, I made a mistake...I'm only human. Please, don't say you can't trust me."
I closed my eyes in disgust, "But I can't..."
He tried to put a comforting hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off. I couldn't bear to look at him, let alone let him touch me.
"Just..." I could hardly speak through the tears, "...just leave. Go, before I do something I might regret."
"But...Matt, just let me..."
"GET OUT!" I yelled, as loud as I could through the misery that had taken me over. I turned away from him, and I could almost sense his feeling of defeat.
"I'm really sorry...goodbye Matthew."
I didn't look back, but I heard the door opening and closing. And as soon as the door closed I fell to my knees and let everything out. I cried and cried. Cried in anguish, cried in fear, cried in anger...
Cried that I could no longer be with the man I loved.
Even now, as I type this, the tears just won't stop. I feel so empty now...he's really gone. His stuff is still here, and I can't bear him coming back to get it...I really hope he sends somebody to get it for him. I don't think I could handle seeing him again, that would really push me over the edge.
It's too late to leave for work now...I'd better call them and tell them I won't be in today. I'm in no state to go anywhere today. I look and feel like a wreck, and I don't even care anymore. It's all over. After everything that happened to bring us together, it's ended so horribly. Thinking of him hurts so badly...and it's all I seem capable of doing.
This just isn't fair...what's the point of it all?
Thursday 28th November 2002 - Midday
Okay, I've calmed down slightly. I just needed somebody to talk to, and there was only one person who I could trust enough to talk to.
My sister.
I haven't told you much about my family, there's not much to tell really. My dad died when I was young, it was cancer. My mother broke down so much after that...much like I'm doing now, I fear. We had to grow up pretty quickly, but we got by somehow. Mother died a few years ago, a shadow of the woman she used to be.
Oh god, that's what I'm turning into...I'm turning into my mother...
Kara, my sister, was the only person who I ever told about my sexuality. But that was mostly because she walked in on me reading a popular Gay magazine...well, not just reading, I'm sure you get what I mean.
But she was totally cool with it, and now...she really is the only person I could have turned to about this.
"It's horrible," she agreed after I told her the entire saga on the phone, "I totally understand how you must feel...god, I can't imagine being in that situation without completely losing it."
"But...now what do I do? I can't just...lose it."
"The best thing to do is to get your mind of off it. Do something...tidy up, watch TV or something...anything to calm you down a bit. And tomorrow I'm taking you out for lunch, and you can tell me everything. And, if all else fails, there's always Psychiatrists!"
I couldn't help but laugh at that last comment, "That's good, a laugh is always good. Keep that up Matty, I'll see you tomorrow."
I almost wished we could've kept talking, it felt like such a burden had been lifted. But now I'm alone again...
My eyes drift over towards the paper Martin gave me yesterday. Well, Kara did say to do things to take my mind off the situation...might as well write a story or something...
...Did Kara call my 'Matty?' Oi vey...
Thursday 28th November 2002 - PM
Well, I spent quite some time trying to write Martin's story...I think it's coming along okay, actually. I'll save some of it in here, just to keep a record of it. Martin gave me great notes for the story, although it was a little weird writing it in a first person point of view.
But what to call it...
The Matchmaker Continued, The Martin Chronicles. By Matthew Phillips
--- --- Okay, that utterly sucks...title obviously a work in progress... --- ---
The Story ---
I love him.
There's no other way to describe it. I don't just love him as a friend, my best friend to be precise, I love him as a man. An incredibly hot and sexy man, at least in my eyes he is. And he can never know how I really feel about him. It hurts to see him, but it hurts even more not to.
The eternal paradox.
But then something happened to me, and it changed everything. It wasn't a monumental occasion, but it changed my life forever. It brought me to him, my Stewart, my love...
And the event...strange as it may seem...a blowjob in the toilets of a local gay restaurant by my love's brother's best friend.
Of course I had no idea it was him when he did it to me, otherwise there was no way I would have let him do it...but if I hadn't, would Stewart and I be together now? Again, it's a paradox. I think it worked out for the best...I'm with the one I love and cherish, and so is he. I can't deny that I secretly hoped that it was Stewart who was my mystery sucker, even though I knew it wasn't. The voice wasn't his after all, although I'd never have guessed the voice was actually Matthew's either.
I needed release so badly, Stewart looked so amazing in the outfit he wore that night, a celebration for his brother's promotion at work. As soon as I saw him, my cock wouldn't behave itself, I knew I had to take care of it pretty quickly. Still, it's no good blaming horniness on what happened in those stalls. I may never understand Matthew's reasoning behind it, but it was just sex. Not love, like I have now.
When Matthew told me that the person who left was supposedly like Stewart, I almost gagged. I know now Matthew was just teasing me, but it made me realize that it was still wasn't the person I wanted it to be. It also made me realize that he had to know how I felt about him...Stewart I mean.
But I never got that chance. Matthew's scheming was, admittedly, flawless. I never suspected a thing going back to that restaurant. Stewart wore the exact same outfit, I never even realized that at the time, mostly because I think Stewart looks great in anything...and Stewart just kept grinning at me. I should have known something was up, but I was just lost in his smile.
--- --- Urgh...is this how saccharine sweet I was when I wrote about Stephen...? God, when did I become such a hopeless romantic anyway...? --- ---
Then I went to those toilets again, not really expecting anything other than the release of liquid waste...then I heard that voice. He talked about Stewart...then ordered me to open the door...and I did so out of shock, completely forgetting the minor detail that my pants and underwear were down around my ankles. And there stood Stewart, grinning. I opened my mouth to protest...well, voice my utter surprise, no way I'd be protesting, but instead he, in an admittedly unromantic fashion but still gets a "WOW" rating, stuck his tongue in my mouth and gently pushed me back into the stall.
Our clothes were shed quickly, and the man who would become known as Matthew fed through a condom through that hole. Stewart wasted no time ripping it open and getting it on my hardening cock. He pushed me down onto the toilet seat, and straddled over me, letting me inside him slowly. As soon as he was fully in he leant over and kissed me, before starting to move himself up and down my cock. It felt like Christmas, New Year, Thanksgiving and my Birthday had all came early. Our bodies were squashed together in the confines of that stall, and his dick was rubbing against my stomach as he moved. He soon came, covering both our chests in his semen. He used his finger to clean some of it off, before letting me suck it clean.
He tasted so good, it was beyond all expectations. It sent me wild with passion and hunger for more. I came soon after, and I was reluctant for Stewart to stop. But they were waiting out there for us...and we couldn't stay in here all night.
Unfortunately.
Looking back, it turned out for the best. Me and Stewart work together in that very restaurant now, and we're even looking for a small place to stay together.
I can't wait.
Maybe I'll tell you more...but for now, be content that love comes to everybody, whether you be hetero, bi, or homosexual. Love is out there somewhere, waiting for you. It may not be as easy finding it as it was for me and Stewart, but love will come someday...and I hope it's as good for you as it was for me.
Martin.
I had to kick myself to stop feeling eager about sending it in...I mean, my journal got such lovely reviews...it's hard not to feel optimistic...but everytime I remember how it all happened, I just can't help feeling nauseous. I'll take this over to Martin tomorrow, after my lunchdate with my sister...
I can't bear to read it through...it would bring back too many painful memories. I just can't...oh no, I can't stop thinking about everything...it hurts to much not too, yet it hurts so much more doing so...maybe it's best I just go to bed now.
And hopefully I won't dream about him...even though the urge to see him grows stronger, I don't think I could stand it.
I don't think I can ever forgive him...
And that makes me a far worse person than he could ever be.
o/~ It hurts to see you walk away, and I'd like to ask you back to stay. To hold you in my arms just one more time. For 1,000 years if I could stand, your precious stone held in my hand, but I just can't justify your love... o/~
Excerpt from "Heart of Gold" sung by Kelly Llorenna.
Just seemed appropriate.
Okay, I gracefully accept your criticisms and whatnot. Did I do something wrong? Tell me! It can only make me a better writer.
malcolm@malcolmcowan.co.uk
Amazingly I have this all planned out. Two more chapters, and a Christmas special, and then I think that'll be the end of this series (unless you can persuade me otherwise...). Hopefully I'll have a new story thought of for the new year (he says...). Until then, see you next chapter.