Love be good to me
You know, it's funny about love. you go looking for it and just when you have given up, you find it in the most unexpected place and with the most unusual person. I ran away from the orphanage when I was sixteen. Well, actually I left when I was sixteen years and three months old. Anyone who cares to ask, I tell them I ran away. I take it you care, that's why you are reading my story. At seventeen, I met my first love. I had been in London for nine months, working in a restaurant, a live-in job. Our romance blossomed from the first day; a slow burn of mutual desire. First love and early spring formed a heady coctail as we discovered the pleasures of the flesh. Throughout that glorious summer we worked hard and frolicked in the various parks of London. And all too soon it was autumn. My world fell apart that autumn. She told me that her parents were emigrating and she was leaving with them. I am not ashamed to tell you, I cried like a baby when she left. I met my second love in Battersea fun fair. I was roller-blading round the fair and listening to music on my walkman. Now, I am quite a competent roller-blader, but on this occasion I seem to lose my balance as I went round a curve on the path. She was crossing the path in front of me and we ended up all arms and legs on the ground. Now I won't tell you her name. The memory of that relationship is too painful. Suffice it to say it ended on a sour note. My next relationship lastd for twenty years. It baffled me how it lasted so long. It wasn't a relationship; it was a war of attrition. I divorced and after that my relationships consisted of one-night stands. London has changed snce those heady days of my first love. Now I am a salesman selling to the catering trade. I had just finished a deal and I was going back to my parked car. Now on this occasion I had to go through the red light district in the dead of night. Gaudy signs and skimpily dressed women could be seen in this part of town. I made a detour to my parked car when a new legalised brothel caught my eye. "Invitation to ecstasy", said the sign above the door. I walked through the entrance and found myself in a narrow corridor. There were rooms on each side of the corridor. I looked through the glass partition of the window and saw her sitting on the chair. She sensed me watching her and lifted her head to see whom it was. Black hair framed her head and she gave me a smile. I looked at her eyes and and my heart skipped a beat, for I knew that at last, love would be good to me. Her gaze melted my heart and a moment later I knew that I was hooked. "Don't look at me like that?" she said. "Why not?" I replied. "I don't deserve the love in your eyes." "What's your name?" I asked. "Triona," she returned. I looked at her three legs. "What kind of name?" I started. Then I stopped. "Your parents have a very ironic sence of humour," I said. "Had," she replied. "I am sorry." "No need to be. It wasn't your fault that they died." "I love you Triona," I cried. "Love. You are a man. What do you know about love?" "I would still love you even if you had ten legs," I said. "That's not funny." "It's not meant to be," I said "You really love me, don't you?" "I want to know you better," I returned. "Why?" "I want to know you better, so that I can love you more," I answered. "Don't feel sorry for me, dammit," she raged. "But I don't feel sorry for you, I love you Triona," I wailed. She looked at me and her face became as soft as velvet while she smiled at me. "What are you doing here? I said. You deserve much more that this." "I have been working in brothels since I was sixteen. This is my stock in trade. Men only come here for one thing. Anyway, who would want a relationship with a woman who has got three legs?" She retorted bitterly. "I love you Triona," I cried, as my heart went out to her. "We'll see," she answered. So this is the story of my life an how I eventually found love. The type of love that I have always dreamed about. At last, love has been good to me.
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