I LOVE a good story!!! can you create a story using these phrases that I dreedged up out of nowhere?

We could both feel the tension of the unspoken words building up in the livingroom as I made another seemingly futile attempt to explain where I am coming from to him.

I looked at Alastair dead in the eyes and said;”(1)If I told you I love you, it would be the end of all misery. However misery inspires our creative sides and helps me to write those lyrics for my band, hence, I will decline saying those three words for now.”

Alastair raised his gaze heavenward and said in a barely audible tone,”(4) I was warned about overzealous ones like you, but did I listen? No. I was too lost in the daze of the passion that you artistic types are famous for. Yet, your obsession in your art is now being detrimental in my plans for our relationship. Sex is great, but I need more. It’s not that I don’t respect your art, your music. Your cretive genius was one of the main things that attracted me to you initially. But now you are telling me that you will begrudge me the pleasure of hearing those words that I have been longing to hear, just so you can bask in my misery and use it to propell your artistic insipirations. What is this really about? Is there someone else in your heart?”

I took a deep breath and as I slowly exhaled, I walked up to him and stood right infront of him with my face inches from his face. Then I put my hands on his shoulders in what I hoped to be a comforting gesture and said,” (3)Right now I have that peaceful, easy feeling! I am with you. I am happy. There are no surprises. However once I fall into the deep and dark pit of contentment, my art and my work will suffer. I will suffer. It is not that I don’t have those feelings for you that you are longing to hear, and it certainly is not that there is someone else in my heart.

I just need you to remember that it is the dim haze of mystery that adds enchantment to the pursuit. Whatever I am doing is for your own good aswellas mine. In this state, I produce better music. When I keep my emotions raw and right under the surface ready to pour out with the gentlest tug, then I am real. I make real music, I make real art, and people are more than happy to pay for it.

So, see, this is all done with good intentions to keep my creativity and success in their peak and thus give us a better lifestyle. This is what we have been dreaming of since our college days”.

Alastair didn’t look very impressed, though. He murmured his mother’s favorite phrase,”(5)The road to Hell is paved with good intentions”, then started sulking as he sauntered towards the library.

As I caught up with him, I realized I couldn’t bear to see that hurt puppy look on his face. He had an expression like he was disappointed in me, but figured arguing was pointless and that he resigned to his fate. Well, that was also against my utopic idea of optimal living.

So, I grabbed his arm before he entered into the library to lose himself in his philosophy books and gently said to him,” Alastair Burton, I love you with all my heart, my soul and every molecule of my body”. As I saw his face light up like a 1000watt bulb, I added,”(2)Life is TOO short for me to stick to the selfish luxuary of putting my art before anything else. Inspiration comes as much from happiness and fullfillment as it does from misery- just different versions of it. However, there is no level of success in the world big enough to make watching the one I love the most, settle in the the feeling of disappointment and resign to the notion that this is as good as it gets. No, my love, I am giving you my honest word today that the best is yet to come”.

And I sealed it with a kiss.

THE END

Right now I have that peaceful, easy feeling but if I told you I love you it would be lost forever. I was warned about falling in love with people like you but did I listen? Life is too short for me to heed the warnings of those claiming to do things for my own good. After all, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Dodge City, Kansas

Circa 1876

Miss Kitty was fed up with the misery she had been suffering ever since Matt Dillon had left her for Sunshine MacGillicutty.

Every day was the same: Get up,get drunk,sing a sad lament or two with Billy Jolinski the piano man at her saloon, the Long Branch, stay drunk and go to bed…..alone. “(2) Life is TOO short for me to waste one more day making a fool of myself.

Just last night she was so drunk, she had mistaken a man’s foot for a leg of lamb:

She reckoned she needed a vacation. A holiday from Dodge. A respite from agony. A …..Okay. Okay. I see you get it.

As she browsed through a pamphlet describing the glories of some islands called Hawaii…..”What a strange name,” she mused, her eye caught sight of an old photo of her and Matt that had fallen from the bedside table,onto the floor.

It had been taken years earlier, when she was younger,slimmer………and sober:

http://www.scvhistory.com/gif/lw2109.jpg

“Oh, Matt…….(4) I was warned about the like(s) you but did I listen? Everyone said you were married to your job. That you were a pragmatic man…….With little interest in romanctic overtures. HA!!!!!!! That’s how you were with ME!!! Not that idiot from Virginia that has mesmerized you!! I swear to GOD!! What the HELL do you see in little Miss Mac-MORON?!”

By the end of the day, she had made up her mind. She was going on a vacation. NOT to that Hawaii place……It was probably a rat infested island. No sir! She had decided on Washington, D.C.

She made arrangements and was ready to go the following week. Matt caught wind of her plans and paid her a visit.

Matt:”Kitty? May I come in?” He smiled and walked into her office. He asked if the rumors were true.

Kitty:” Yes, Matt. I’m off to Washington on the morning train.

(3) Right now I have that peaceful, easy feeling……The kind you get when you know you’ve made the right decision!”

They chatted a bit longer. As Matt got up to leave……..

Kitty:”Matt….(1) If I told you I love you it would be……..”

Matt interrupted:” Kitty, I wish you well. Have a safe journey.”

When he was gone, she finished her sentence…………………

“It would be the truth. Ohhhh, Matt………Matt.” She picked up a bottle of booze and took a drink.

When the train pulled into town the following morning, Kitty stood there alone on the platform. The happiness she had felt earlier was now gone. She knew she was running away from something that would still be there when she returned. She wondered for the 100th time if this was the right thing to do. As the train’s whistle blared it’s arrival, Kitty muttered to herself…..(5) “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Washington, D.C.??

HERE I COME!!”

Page 2 of the Ray and Silva story.

I think what drew Ray to Silva was that, unlike most women, Silva didn’t warm up to nim at first. In fact, Silva was actually engaged to her best friend, Charlie, when she met Ray. But, like everything with Ray, what Ray wants, Ray gets. Ray didn’t take no, because he never had to …until Silva. They met over lunch. Silva was waiting tables at Vinny’s, the local hangout for struggling actors, while she was between auditions. Ray started flirting, as he always does. When Silva flashed her diamond at Ray to try to cool him off it was like hanging a fresh slab of beef in front of a junkyard dog. Ray was determined to get Silva or… or, nothing. Whatever Ray wants, Ray gets.

Ray had two months to work his magic. And, he went right to work. Not overbearing. Not desperate. Quietly, persistently, …slyly. He studied Silva, watched her work, noticed her conversations, and found the things that seemed to bring a smile to her face, the glitter to her eye, and the laughter to her voice. Simple things, really. Decent things like home, family, friends and especially honesty. Silva was honest with you, more importantly, she was honest with herself and expected everyone else to be honest with her as well. Trouble was, she only expected you be honest and she always believed you were honest. And, it always broke Silva’s heart if she found out you hadn’t been honest with her. That was Ray’s ticket.

Ray didn’t try to sweep Silva off her feet like he regularly did with every other woman he wanted. Silva would be a different and exciting challenge. He immediately began eating often, everyday, at Vinny’s, always on Silva’s shift, always at one of Silva’s tables. He didn’t flirt with Silva anymore. Instead, he talked about the things he knew were important to Silva. He made up a father and a couple of brothers and sisters; a childhood home with all the clichéd trimmings in the verdure of upstate New York. Ray was actually the only child of an abandoned, alcoholic mother. He never saw a blade of grass in front any of the rent-by-the-month, communal bathroom hotels he called home. But, Ray found the yellow brick road that lead straight to Silva’s heart when we engaged her in his supposed “favorite” game, “Close your eyes and think of…”

Silva was so trusting she never suspected and never held anything back. And, she loved to play “Ray’s Game.” It quickly got to the point that Ray didn’t even have to start the game anymore, Silva eagerly took the “Close your eyes and think of…” bait like a tomboy to trees. Silva began pouring her heart out to Ray and she didn’t even realize it. And, Ray took copious mental notes. Then, he inconspicuously began to identify himself and his life with everything that was important to Silva. The master stroke was that Ray also began to plant seeds of doubt in Silva about Charlie. Silva would reveal some “Close your eyes and think of…” intimacy to Ray and a short time later he would mention his own intimate appreciation for the same thing. Then, he would wonder aloud how Charlie felt about it. In almost no time, Ray had created enough of a list of things, little things, really, that Silva didn’t know about Charlie but that she was sure about in Ray that Silva began to show the slightest signs of reservation about Charlie. That’s when Ray knew he could and had to orchestrate the final parting of ways for Silva and Charlie.

From all he had learned about Silva, Ray figured she and Charlie were “saving themselves” for each other on their wedding night. And, he was right. Ray arranged to have, shall we say, an “experienced” woman-friend of his to visit Charlie in his apartment where Silva was going to arrive to discuss some detail of their wedding plans which Ray didn’t really remember or care about. The whole point was to get this woman friend in Charlie’s apartment shortly before Ray escorted Silva there, have the woman friend disrobe while dishevelling the place, and then be loudly and ecstatically in Charlie’s unsuspecting arms just as Silva arrived. It worked.

Silva and Charlie could hear the banging, thumping and moaning as soon as they got off the barely operational elevator in Charlie’s building. It sounded like someone was having a really good time. In Ray’s estimation, Silva couldn’t have entered Charlie’s apartment at a better time. It was easy to see Ray was right. Charlie had been so stunned when his “new neighbor” began her “performance” that at first he hadn’t known what to do. By the time this little play was entering the second “act”, Charlie had found enough presence of mind to attempt to corral the now naked woman and after a few frantic laps around the couch had managed to mount her on the cushions whereupon she wrapped her bare legs around his torso and began to howl with the most convincing delight this side of Meg Ryan, just as Silva opened the apartment door.

Good-bye Charlie. And, hello Ray.

Ray knew he had Silva now and that he didn’t need, nor would it be “wise”, to advance too quickly. Clearly, Silva was in no condition to become romantically involved with Ray right now. And, oddly, Ray felt a little loss in the intensity of his own feelings for Silva …now that the chase was over. It wasn’t long before the import of this lost intensity became apparent. As with every other relationship in Ray’s life, the thrill of anticipation immediately began to fade upon the realization of the prize. However, just the opposite was happening for Silva.

With the devastating loss of Charlie, Silva needed someone to pour her heart into and Ray was already well along the rose garden path to it. “Close your eyes and think of…” had opened the garden gate and now was Silva’s best therapy for recovering from Charlie. The more she shared with Ray, the more she forgot Charlie, the deeper in love she fell for the worst possible excuse for the friend she so desperately needed at this time, and the faster Ray was winding his self-serving way in the opposite direction.

Ray took advantage of the situation for as long as he got any semblance of pleasure from it. But, it was not long before what passes for guilt in Ray’s mind (which really is little more than boredom) convinced him it was time to execute his standard exit strategy.

You have to give Ray his due. The “Close your eyes and think of…” therapy was a winner. It took about six months before Silva recovered and was totally devoted to her new best friend, Ray. When she got the roses and the romantic dinner invitation, Silva actually believed Ray was going to propose and she was excited to say, “Yes!”

Stefan had barely laid out the Crème Brule when Ray reached for Silva’s hand. “This is it!”, thought Silva as she flushed noticeably at the impression.

“Silva,” soothed Ray, “…I …I used to love you.”

Silva completely missed the “used to.” Didn’t even register.

Ray continued, “…But, now it’s all over.”

If Silva missed “used to” she heard all to well, “…it’s all over.” The intended crushing was complete. The snuffing was utter. There really was no need for the pert wink. The click of the tongue was superfluous and the smooth, “See you later, alligator.”, was not even heard as Silva just blankly stared out the picture window. Silva was still staring when she saw Ray stroll past her picture window view arm in arm with Charlie’s old “new neighbor” all smiles and laughter.

Later that night, after Ray had expunged his guilt/boredom with a convenient and ever-willing partner, there was a soft knock on the door to his apartment. The knock was so innocent Ray answered without hesitation. There in his doorway stood Silva still dressed in his favorite form-hugging, red satin gown as he had left her only a few short hours before. Only, Silva was soaked head to foot with the bedraggled hair and smeared eye-liner of someone wandering in the recent thunderstorm.

“Ray,…”, she whispered vacantly, “…close you eyes and think of …me.”

BANG!