
Greg sat in
his car in plain view of Matt’s driveway. He watched as a car backed out and
drove down the road toward town. He sat there and thought about pulling into the
driveway, walking up and just knocking on Matt’s door, but something stopped
him. Maybe it was the thought of everything they’d been through, maybe it was
the thought of what Matt had turned into, or maybe it was the thought of being
told to go to hell again and having the door slammed in his face. Whatever it
was, it was strong enough to keep Greg right where he was. Sitting in his car
and dreaming. Dreaming of times gone by and what could have been.
He remembered it like it was yesterday. It was a hot, thick summer night when
Matt dropped the bombshell that tore Greg’s world apart. He sat in Greg’s living
room and told him that he’d found someone else. In true Greg Helms style, he
told Matt to get out, swearing up and down that he never loved him anyway and
that he didn’t care. But when Matt walked out his door, his world collapsed. He
really did stop caring about everything. He’s never been in love like that
since, and he swears he never will be. He’d never let anyone that close again.
Greg and Matt could have been something great, but it’s taken years for him to
realize that it just wasn’t in the cards that fate had dealt him. He’s had other
relationships since Matt, but none of them had the passion and the love that he
shared with Matt. Theirs was love like no other. It was filled with passion,
love, romance, common interests, everything it took to make a relationship work.
Greg never knew and never took the time to find out why it didn’t. He just did
the only thing he could, he picked up the pieces of his shattered heart and
moved on, thinking he was destined never to be whole again.
Greg had been doing this little ritual of his ever since Matt had gotten his
heartbroken by the harlot that stole him away. Sitting in his car, where he
could see the driveway, watching the steady stream of lovers Matt had acquired,
pulling away for the evening. None of them caring enough to even stay the night.
Matt deserved better. He deserved someone that would love him, even during his
dark periods, that were getting more and more frequent. Every night, it was the
same argument with himself also. Greg had to fight the urge to walk into that
house and take Matt away from all this every night. Through everything Matt had
put him through, God help him, he still loved Matt with everything he had.
For the first couple of months, after they’d split up, Greg stopped watching WWE
programming altogether, for fear that he might catch sight of his lost love.
Then when he got a job with the company, he did everything in his power to avoid
Matt. Most of the time it worked, but there were a few instances when it didn’t.
Matt just acted like nothing ever happened, and Greg tried to, to no avail. Now,
however, the desire to see Matt, seems to have consumed him. If he’s not sitting
in front of Matt’s house, he’s watching old tapes, or looking at pictures, or
watching the Matt Hardy show, or something else Matt related. Tonight, though,
he knew that he couldn’t continue like this very much longer. He was slowly, but
surely, loosing his mind.
He was consumed with thoughts of beating the hell out of Adam Copeland, Amy
Dumas, and anyone else that had hurt Matt. With the way Matt was acting, though,
that meant that he would have to beat the hell out of half the damn roster. Matt
had turned into some kind of sexual plaything for anyone that would have him,
after the whole Matt and Amy situation, as it’s come to be called, went down. If
Matt wasn’t having sex with someone, he was drinking, and drinking heavily. Greg
knew Matt was drowning his sorrows, in pleasure and liquor, and there was
nothing he could do. Even though he’d racked his brain trying to figure out
something he could do about it.
Greg watched as Matt stepped out onto his balcony, a bottle of liquor in his
hand, looking thoroughly fucked. Greg knew that look well. He placed that look
on Matt’s face more times than he could count. That look never ceased to amaze
him though. He had always thought that’s when Matt looked his sexiest, face
flushed, hair sweaty with a few strands stuck to his face, that soft glimmer
that his skin took on when a thin layer of sweat remained, yeah that’s when he
looked his sexiest. Greg couldn’t help but sit there and stare at the angel that
was Matt Hardy.
This feeling was becoming all to familiar to Greg. The helplessness, the way his
arms hurt due to the mere knowledge that he would probably never hold Matt in
them again, the heartache that engulfed him every time he saw this creature. He
thought it was strange, though, how the heart could actually hurt so much, when
the organ actually had nothing to do with emotions. His heart was hurting,
though, as he saw yet another car pull into Matt’s driveway. Just another piece
of trash that had come by so they could simply tell all their friends how they’d
screwed Matt Hardy.
Greg watched in stunned silence as Chris Master’s got out of the car and walked
to Matt’s door, Matt telling him, from the balcony, to just come on in. He
couldn’t believe how far Matt had slipped. This was it, the moment of truth. His
life was going to change forever tonight. For better or for worse, he had to
make an attempt to save Matt from himself. Greg stepped out of his car, walked
up the driveway and knocked on the door. He heard Matt telling Chris that he’d
get rid of whoever it was as he headed to the door. Greg vowed right then and
there that he wasn’t letting Matt blow him off that easily. After all Matt
needed saving, and he was a Super Hero right?