Fool for Love
Disclaimers: These characters were created entirely by me. Please do not use them or repost this story
without permission. This story features dark themes,
mildly naughty language and a loving and sexual
relationship between women.
Everybody Plays the Fool
Do you believe in miracles? I never did before, but now Iím not so sure.
Iíve searched my brain over and over and I canít come up with any
other rational explanation for the direction my life has taken recently.
I wasnít looking for a miracle. I
wasnít expecting it. I sure as
hell didnít deserve it, but there it was, all the same.
So call it what you will --- destiny, fate, kismet.
For now, Iíll stick with ďmiracle.Ē
It was just another New Yearís Eve when it
happened. Like I did every year, I
had made plans to hang out at my friend Ronís place. We would play a few hands of poker, drink a few pitchers of
margaritas, and watch Dick Clark ring in the new year on television.
I had hoped I would have plans with someone special this time around, but
that was before I had gone and trashed the one good thing in my otherwise sorry
Faith and I hadnít spoken to each other in months.
We hadnít even laid eyes on each other since she drove away and left me
standing alone in a gloomy, grimy parking lot.
I was certain that our relationship had ended that night.
After everything I had said and done, I didnít think there was any
chance Faith could ever forgive me.
One day, when I knew she would be at work, I had gone
back to the little house we had shared. All
of my stuff was exactly where I had left it, but none of it seemed to belong
there anymore. Everything looked so
foreign and alien that it was hard to believe I had ever lived there.
As quickly as I could, I packed up everything I owned.
It didnít take long to fill a couple of suitcases and a few boxes.
My favorite photograph of the two of us was still on
the nightstand next to my side of the bed.
It was a picture of me and Faith, taken when we were very much in love. My
arms were wrapped around her waist and we were squinting into the sun while the
vast, blue Pacific stretched toward the horizon behind us.
We were smiling. I
couldnít remember the last time I had smiled.
Sadness and regret nearly overwhelmed me as I stared
at the happy couple. How had it all
gone so wrong? How could a love
that had seemed so true grow cold and die so quickly? Oh, I still loved Faith with all my heart and soul.
Make no mistake about that. But
I didnít even dare to dream that she might hold even a flickering memory of
love for me. No, I had already seen
that light go out in her eyes and it killed me to know that I was the cause of
I was surprised she had kept the picture.
Actually, I was surprised that she hadnít disposed of my stuff in a
great, big, cathartic bonfire in the backyard.
It looked, though, like she had kept everything just as it was before.
It almost looked like she was half-expecting me to come home at any
moment. I just knew that wasnít
the case. I figured she was too
disgusted with me to even bother touching any of my junk.
Iím such an idiot sometimes. Looking
back on it now, the scene in the house probably should have been my first clue.
Still, I was determined to move out of her home and
her life. I was going to excise
myself from Faith the way a surgeon might cut out a cancerous tumor.
With a heavy sigh, I laid the photograph face down on the nightstand and
left my key on top of it. My jaw
ached from clenching my teeth so tightly, but I knew that I wouldnít be able
to hold back the tears if I relaxed for a split second.
I grabbed my bags and my boxes and got the hell out.
I stayed with a co-worker for a few weeks until I
could find a place of my own. It
wasnít the first time I had resigned myself to sleep on someone elseís
couch. Hopefully, it will be the
last. Eventually, I found an
apartment downtown that I could afford. It
was in a crappy, depressing neighborhood, but I was in a crappy, depressing
mood. I figured we were made for
I never even bothered to unpack.
My bed was a sleeping bag on the floor.
My dining room table --- a board balanced across a pair of milk crates.
I existed in that dark, dank apartment for several months. Notice I said ďexistedĒ and not ďlived.Ē
I doubt what I was doing could be considered living.
That was okay with me, though. The
monotony of my life numbed the pain.
Christmas came and went. My only nod to the holiday came in the form of a drooping
poinsettia that I had picked up at work. Then,
before I realized it, it was New Yearís Eve.
Like I mentioned earlier, I had planned to drive up the coast to spend
the weekend with an old friend.
My car keys were in my hand and
I had one foot out the door when the phone rang.
I almost didnít answer it. No
one ever called me, so I didnít think it could possibly be important. Most of the time it was just someone who had dialed a wrong
number. Apparently, my home number
was very similar to the number for a nearby adult video store.
The phone continued to ring.
I thought it might be Ron calling to tell me to pick something up on my
way to his place, so I decided to answer it after all.
That turned out to be one of the most fateful decisions of my life.
ďHello,Ē I said, lifting the receiver to my ear.
No one answered me.
ďHello?Ē I repeated, a bit peevishly.
I was about to tell my silent caller exactly where to stick his or her
phone when a familiar voice spoke.
ďIím sorry.Ē Faithís voice was husky, as if
sheíd been crying.
I was stunned speechless. I didnít even know how she had found me.
Before I could recover my wits, she went on.
ďKara, please donít hang up,Ē she pleaded.
ďI love you. Meet me at our beach. If
youíre not there by midnight, Iíll know itís over.Ē
She hung up without waiting for my reply.
It was just as well. I was
completely incapable of uttering a sound. Actually,
I was completely incapable of a single coherent thought.
Dumbfounded, I stared at the buzzing receiver in my hand.
My head spun as I tried to process what had just happened.
Faith had called me. My Faith. And
she loved me. Even after all these
months, even after all the incredibly stupid things I had done, she loved me.
A thought began to poke insistently at my scrambled brain.
What if there are things that arenít up to me to decide?
What if some things just are, no matter how hard I try to screw
I was a fool. A
complete, utter, bona fide fool. I
had jumped to the conclusion that Faith wanted nothing more to do with me.
Then, based on that obviously incorrect assumption, I had decided that we
were through and there was nothing I could do to save what we had.
And because I had been too busy wallowing in my own self-pity, it had
never occurred to me to ask Faith what she wanted.
The nasal whine of the dial tone jerked me away from
my epiphany and reminded me that I still had the phone in my hand.
Carefully, I dropped the receiver back in its cradle.
My mind kept replaying Faithís words over and over again.
She wanted me to meet her at midnight at our beach --- the place where we
had met. I checked my watch.
It was just after 7:30. I
called Ron and told him I wasnít coming, that I had to go find my angel
instead. I think he thought I had
finally gone insane. Who knows? Maybe I had.
With more hope in my heart than I had ever felt,
I dashed out of my apartment and jumped into my car. As I entered the freeway and headed towards the beach, I
fervently prayed that I wasnít dreaming.
Traffic was a nightmare. All
of the real nuts hit the road on New Yearís Eve, but I didnít care.
Faith was waiting for me and no force on the Earth was going to keep me
from finding her before midnight.