Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 7

chest and sat rocking. "What I don't get is why? Why is it a sin to love? To find ways to enjoy our body that feels natural and good? I don't understand a God who gives us so much freedom, and then says if we use it, we're going to Hell. Can you explain that, Father?"
    "No. . ." The priest said slowly, and then continued as if in a trance as he spoke, "but my question to you, Juan, is this . . . Who told you, you were wrong to want love? Who showed you scriptures in accordance with that? The bible is a weapon; it is a sword that is mighty. But many wield it incorrectly. They use it to justify their hatred, not to prove their love. They use it to make themselves a Pharisee, not to humble themselves as well. You were created divinely as YOU. And when judgment comes, I believe, showing love, true love, will stand supreme. Until then, suffer as a warrior of the true God. True to your beliefs, and your study of the Scripture."
    As the Father spoke, Juan felt himself filled with hope and light. The Father finished the confession, giving his final words of Love, and as he left the confessional, Juan sat there grateful for once that he had listened to his parents and gone to church.
    CHAPTER 5: The Fifth Anniversary
    "I want to brake up." That was all the e-mail said. Dr. Bradley Harbuck looked at his computer again, shaking his head in disbelief. After five years strong, this was how his lover, Jean Paul, ended their relationship, a misspelled sentence. And Bradley crumpled into his chair. He looked around the hotel room he had rented for the night. With the chartered airplane for the night, the champagne chilling in ice, and the rose petals on the bed, he had spent more money and planning than he cared to think about on this evening, only to receive a misspelled e-mail informing him of the demise of his marriage.
    " Don't I deserve more than this? " He asked out loud to the air wafting around the room. He stepped out onto the balcony and looked below. As the cars streamed by twenty floors down, he thought ever so briefly about jumping, but he could never do that. He loved his life.
    He continued to look down and found himself lost in a memory of him and Jean Paul.
    He had been staying in the exact same hotel and had called for room service. It was getting late, and he was a bit hungry. Not feeling like going out, he ordered in. And when room service arrived, Jean Paul entered his room, and Bradley's heart stopped. Okay, maybe it didn't stop. But for the first time in a long time, Bradley was definitively hard in all the right places.
    Jean Paul put the tray down on the table, and asked if there was anything else Bradley needed. Bradley responded "That sounds like a line from a really bad porno."
    Both men were eyeing each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.
    Jean Paul headed toward the door, stating that "Company policies prohibit any kind of relationship with a guest staying at the property."
    Bradley replied, "That doesn't stop the two of us from fucking in the shower until the water turns cold."
    Then not caring about policy, they not only felt the water get cold but warmed the sheets up as well. But by the time they finished, they both realized they wanted more than just a fuck. Bradley checked out the next morning, and got a room across the street, so there was no fear, for either of them.
    Within a week, Bradley was in love, and Jean Paul saw a way out of Paris, where he had lived all his life. Since Bradley was already a U.S. citizen he helped Jean Paul get his residency and they had been together ever since.
    "I want to brake up." Laying on the desk next to the computer was the brand new five-hundred-dollar phone that Jean Paul had wanted. Bradley had bought it as an anniversary present for him, and had just gotten the service switched over, so Jean Paul could use it immediately. The phone began to vibrate, a new text had come in.
    Bradley picked up the phone and read " Broken up with the bf yet? Get over here soon and fuck me!" Bradley's hand shook as he dialed the number.
    "Hello. Hello. Didya meanta call me? Whatever." The guy on the other end of the phone snorted and hung up. Bradley recognized the voice immediately, as he realized he had been played for months. Bradley glanced down, after pacing the room and ending on the balcony. He still had the phone in his hand. He held it over the balcony, over the traffic gathering below, and watched it drop into street, only wishing he could do the same