I met him years ago, a small country. Out of me and France, he chose me to be his brother - me to be his protector. His guardian. And so, I did that. I brought him up, looked after him, taught him right from wrong and made him strong. But I got too attached. Too controlling. So, he revolted. We fought furiously, but in the end, I couldn't win. I could only give in. I learned that he needed to live and grow by himself from now on. I learned that the hard way...

Everyday I think about him, I look at him and I see a hero. My hero. And everyday, I sit and wonder, what could've happened if I'd only let him live. They say that if you love something, let it free. And some day, some day, it'll come back to you if it truly loves you. Ever since that day, I've been praying. Praying that he'll come back. Praying that he'll confess his love for me. If only dreams could come true...

I think, one day in the future, my hope will turn into reality. He'll walk over to me, hold me close, force me to look up into his deep, lustful eyes - and kiss me. That's what I ponder, every time he walks into the bar, when we glance looks at each other, and look away. But only so far he's walked up to me, talked to me. But that's not enough...

Every time I see him with Matthew, another one I helped raise, I feel sick and jealous and my stomach turns. I raise a brow, and let it slide. And I'll continue to do so, until that day, that I hope and pray for.

I love you, Alfred. I just want you to love me too.

Arthur Kirkland~