Feel
He treats me like I'm some kind of fucking whore and I guess in a way it's right, I guess I am a whore, going to him for sex, him paying me – not in money of course, I don't need money but the way pays me is – with his body.
Nothing more, nothing less.
I never expected for him to think much of me, or put any real emotions into it but it hurts knowing that I'll never be anything more than a blotch – or maybe even a dot – on his radar; even after giving him my virginity – my innocence – the one thing that I was saving for until after I was married. I couldn't help but hope to get him to love me – or at least like me, just a bit, but alas things don't work that way, therefore it can never happen the way I want.
But I suppose that his body is enough for now – probably too much – after all, I'm not worth him, or anyone else, just a tainted little whore.
I knew – I still do - that for him there were no emotions behind the touching and the passionate kisses. It would be too much to even hope for, I know that, I am not happy with that, but it is something I guess I will have to live with, knowing that he doesn't tie any of his emotions to me. But I can't complain. I mean, it's the perfect deal, I give him my body, my soul, my whole fucking heart and he gives me his touch, protection, warmth and the feeling of being wanted, if only for a little while.
I think that deep down I have always wanted him; I mean most girls have wanted him, at one time or another - not that they got him – either way I suppose for us it's a win-win situation; he gets sex and I get the greatest feelings.
No matter how much I want to hate him or at least deny him what he wants – I know I can't – because I love him – I know that and deep down he probably knows that too – and no matter how much I hate it – how much I hate myself for it – I can't help but give in. after all, I want him and I can't help but give myself over to him and surrender myself to his touch.
I quickly pull my new top – my aqua blue halter neck – over my head and discarded it on the floor where I was standing.
I know I'm just a substitute for the girl that I hate, the one that hates me with a fiery passion – Trish Stratus. Beautiful Trish Stratus who's face I broke. I'm just the thing that he uses as a substitute, because everybody loves pretty Patricia, everybody wants her. I'm nothing more than a low life, whore-ish substitute.
He walks toward me, looking me up and down slowly, sizing me up as he pulls his chain from around his neck and throws it carelessly at his feet.
I wonder if he'll ever want anything from me other than my body. Because no matter what happens I know that I will always love him. He will always stay in my heart, even though I know that I will never even be mentioned in his.
I pull my hair out of its high ponytail and it falls in innocent deep red ringlets down to my elbows and splays out against my back.
If only he loved me then maybe I could be happy for once. When I think of Matt; I think of heartbreak, but when I look at the man in front of me I think of love and innocence and purity and my heart seems to skip a beat.
He reaches me and leans down for a kiss.
Before I know it his arms are encircled around my waist, one of my hands is running through his hair while the other is around his neck, my right leg is around his waist and my left leg is pushing up, off the plush carpeting, curling slightly as it reaches his waist and I'm gently chewing his bottom lip.
He stops for a minute, putting me on the floor gently, though he has no feelings for me he wouldn't hurt me intentionally – at least not if he knew he were – or anyone else for that matter, coz no matter what people thought he was kind and he didn't go around hurting people.
I gently pull the red jersey off his body, perfectly manicured fingernails running along his bare chest teasingly. He pulls the jersey over his head and throws it somewhere around the room.
He unbuttons the front of my jeans slowly whispering into my ear each time a button got undone. "You don't know what you do to me." He says, before placing a quick kiss on my lips and sliding the offending material down my legs, letting the dark jeans pool at my ankles before I kick them away.
"You look beautiful," he says to me, observing as the blush forms on my cheeks. A ghost of a smile graced my lips and my eyes turned warm.
He runs his hand through my hair and breathes my scent in deeply.
He mutters something to himself, which I by chance heard and the usual warmth in my ice becomes tainted by ice.
"Do you love her?" I asked, looking him in the eyes. I know that I probably don't even wanna hear the answer that's gonna come out of his mouth, but I'd rather know now.
He raked a hand through his short hair and looked around the room, his eyes not once landing on me. "Answer me…" I demanded.
I looked at him and his gaze was locked on the floor. "Just fucking answer me." I screamed, "I have to know." I said softly, before adding, "I'd rather find out from you than from one of the locker room sluts." I said; keeping my eyes focused on him.
"Not like I love you." He told me looking me in the eyes, trying to find some type of emotion flicker on my face.
"But that's the problem John – you don't love me. You're using me for sex, I'm just your substitute for her, I thought that giving you my virginity would make you like me, maybe even love me." I started; tears began welling in my eyes. "But that isn't how it works, coz pretty Trish always gets the guys." I admitted to him as a tear slipped down my cheek.
He brushed it away with his thumb, giving me a small kiss on the lips, and hope sparked up inside my most inner being – maybe he did love me, but unfortunately he did manage to mention that he did love her, which had probably meant that I had no real chance.
I sigh lightly, hoping he didn't hear it and plaster a fake smile on my face before continuing, after all it was just sex, and I was only here to feel good and feel protected, for as long as possible.
I pushed his head down to mine and kissed him with all the passion I had built up in me. My tongue darted out, meeting his in a familiar dance.
She undid his jeans and they fell to the floor. He kicked them away and broke our kiss, before lifting me up and dropping me on the bed.
Before I knew it he was done, I had my warmth and my protection for a while.
"Thanks a lot for that Li." He said, looking at me. "Get out now." He said throwing me a filthy look, it's not like I don't know why, it's because I'm me – Amy 'Lita' Dumas – and not her – Patricia Stratus. I guess I know now that he really doesn't love me.
Why can he not fucking see that I'm here when she's not – when she never will be?
Why does he not know how much I love him, how much I care for him and want to spend my life with him?
How come everyone always loves her and uses me – even after I give them all that I possibly can?
I have loved him since the moment I saw him, I gave him everything I could and yet he's still in love with her – he still hasn't been able to notice what has been here for him from the start.
Why after two months does he still cry out her name after we've been together?
I think I know why…
…It's because he loves her – not me – and I can't change that – no matter how much I would love to try – because even though he can make me feel good again – I obviously can't do the same.
I guess this is gonna have to have been the last time, our final farewell, our beautiful last goodbye.
"Goodbye John Cena – I will always love you – I'm sorry for this to have to end but this is it – our final time."
It took all I have not to go after her – the only thing I could do was tell her how I feel – but I guess it would all be in vain by now anyway, she was going.
"See ya round…Amy – I love ya though…no matter what." I said softly, wondering to myself if she heard me, or if she even felt the same.
She was still walking away, and now I knew that there was nothing I could ever do about it, she wasn't mine anymore – not that she was ever really mine to begin with.
Stopping for a minute the pretty redhead turned around and gave me a final half-smile – the one that I had always loved and adored – before going through that door. And it was then that I realised that it was probably forever and by not telling her I loved her I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.
I pulled the little purple velvet box out of one of my drawers toying around with it. Then opening it up, watching as the light hit the contents, making it gleam.
I looked at the ring one last time before closing the box and sighing. It wasn't gonna happen, who was I trying to kid?
And that's it I had just ended one of the best things that had ever happened to me, after only two months I had ended it.
That was it…
Notes: if I get enough reviews I might add a chapter and turn it into a series or maybe write a sequel if any of you actually want one.