Dear Dave,

I know you're wondering why I'm writing to you, and it's a little ironic, actually. Me of all people, not having the words to come right out and tell you what's on my mind. But for some reason, whenever I look at you, my brain turns to mush and the ability to form sentences totally escapes me. I know that everyone thinks I run my mouth too much, and that's probably true. But I don't want to touch you with my mouth. Well, that's not entirely true either - but I hope you know what I mean!

I want to touch you with my heart, my soul, with every fiber of my being. From the moment you walked into the locker room for the first time, I think I fell in love with you. Maybe it wasn't love at first, because I don't believe in love at first sight. But lust grew into infatuation, and that grew into love. One might ask how you can love someone you've never touched, held, kissed. Well, it happens. I know, because I fell in love with you, and you've never laid a hand on me.

I love the way your chest rises and falls as you move around the ring. I love the way your stomach tightens as you raise someone over your head, only to slam them down onto the hard canvas of the ring. I love watching your arms strain as you work out, lifting hundreds of pounds of weights over and over again. But the thing I love the most is your eyes. I love it when the corners crinkle up just a little, whether you're deep in thought or laughing at some inane joke.

Don't get me wrong. Your body is enough to send me into places I never knew existed, but that's not the only attraction. I love the way you treat other people, like they were the most important, most special person in the world at that moment. I've watched you get off a plane after flying for 18 hours straight, tired, exhausted, about to drop - and you still have a smile for the fans that surround you, taking up your personal space, only for a chance to say they spent a moment with the greatness that is you.

I've seen you sign autographs hour after hour, taking time to talk to every person in line, making them feel that they are the only reason you're there. Children, soldiers, the shy teenager on the street that approaches you slowly, pen and paper in hand - you have a smile and a few kind words for each of them, even though it totally goes against your image. I guess you are living proof that you can't judge a book by its cover.

It's funny. You're not more than 50 feet away from me right now, and I can't even walk across the room and say what I want to say. I've always been afraid of rejection. It's not something I'm used to dealing with. This way, if I write it all down and you don't respond, I can always pretend you never got this letter. But, if I spoke these words out loud and you looked at me with pity or fear or disgust - well, then I would know that it's hopeless, and I don't think I could deal.

You looked at me a few minutes ago, that amused look I've seen you get when you're trying to figure something out. I bet you're wondering what the hell I'm doing, hunched over my notebook, headphones in place, my hand flying over the pages. Well, now you know. Maybe when you read this, you'll think back to that moment and you'll remember. I know I always will. You gave me one of those smiles, and I can only imagine the goofy grin on my face. It's like sneaking around, doing something behind your parent's back - and getting away with it.

The poet in me is sitting here, extolling your virtues and singing your praises, while the man in me is wanting nothing more than to toss my notebook aside, walk into your arms and offer myself up for your pleasure. I could tell you the countless hours I've spent imagining the touch of your hands on my naked flesh, but my hand is too tired. And I don't mean from writing! I want to know if your lips feel as soft as they look. I want to know if your fingers would leave bruises on my hip as you hold onto me, stroking the most intimate places with every inch of manhood.

I can't lie - I've checked you out more than once, standing under the hot steam of the shower, water sluicing down your flesh. And more than once, I longed to be one of those drops, making my way down your body. I know nothing of what you like, what you're in to, what you think, feel, dream. And yet, I know everything I want to know. You are a beautiful soul, wrapped in a more beautiful skin, and I want to know every inch of you, inside and out.

I must have played this song a dozen times while writing. Funny thing is, if anyone else could hear it, they would probably fall over laughing. Not my usual style, you know. And for the record, don't let my appearance fool you. I might look like another pretty boy, with nothing more on my mind than my hair and my outfit, but that's not the case. I would give anything to get to know you, and for you to get to know me. I just hope we get that chance.

While you were doing your promo, I took the time to write down the lyrics of this song. Some might say it's a little intense, especially considering that we've never even really talked. Hopefully, that will change soon. You'll want…this as much as I do. You'll want me. Heh…I won't even consider the possibility that you wouldn't. I can't. That would mean there was no hope, and I always have hope. Well that, and an ego the size of Texas! Wow, how time flies. I gotta do my spot now. I have to face my past, so I can free myself for the future. And I want that future to include you.

Yours (hopefully!),
Shawn


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How do I
Get through one night without you?
If I had to live without you
What kind of life would that be?
Oh I, I need you in my arms
Need you to hold
You're my world, my heart, my soul
If you ever leave
Baby you would take away everything
Good in my life.

And tell me now
How do I live without you?
I want to know
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I
How do I
Oh how do I live?

Without you
There'd be no sun in my sky
There would be no love in my life
There would be no world left for me
And I
Baby I don't know what I would do
I'd be lost if I lost you
If you ever leave
Baby you would take away everything
Real in my life

And tell me now
How do I live without you?
I want to know
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I
How do I
Oh how do I live?

If you ever leave
Baby you would take away everything
Need you with me
Baby cuz you know you're everything
Good in my life

And tell me now
How do I live without you?
I want to know
How do I breathe without you?
If you ever go
How do I ever, ever survive?
How do I
How do I
Oh how do I live?


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I've always hated hospitals. The sound…the smell…the sick people. If there was ever gonna be a place where all the evil in the world could converge to unite, it would be a damn hospital. I lied to get in here, ya know. They said only family, so I told them I was your cousin. The nurse looked at me funny, and I think she knew I was lying. But, she let me in anyway. And it wasn't because of any smile, even though you seem to think I can move mountains with one.

That's the advantage of being me. I can charm the pants off anyone with that smile, but I scare the shit outta them when I growl. So that's how I ended up here, with you. I intimidated the poor desk nurse into letting me in. You don't look much like a pretty boy right now, I hate to tell ya. The bruise on your neck is getting darker. I watch as your chest rises and falls, sometime raggedly, as the tube in your nose pumps in pure oxygen.

You need it, to keep the blood flowing from the bag to the needle in your hand rich. I've never wanted to kill anyone more than I want to kill Kane right now. Well, maybe Paul, but that's for a whole other reason. I stood there with everyone else, watching the blood flow from your mouth and I cringed. For all my tough-guy veneer, for all the big, bad-ass growls that I throw around, I can't stand the sight of blood.

Especially the blood of someone I love. Yeah, I said it. See, you're not the only one that gets to worship from afar, afraid of rejection and humiliation. But I have an advantage - or maybe a curse. I've wanted you longer. I want all those things you do. I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want to look into your eyes as the sun rises outside and hear you whisper everything your heart desires. I want to be the one to make those dreams come true. But right now, I want you to wake up.

I hate waiting. Always have. I'm not a patient person. After they loaded you into the ambulance, I found the letter in my bag. I guess you stuck it in there on your way to the ring. It took me all of about 3 seconds to grab it and find a nice, quiet place to read it. At first I thought it was a joke, a rib someone was trying to play on me. That is, until Paul walked up and started trying to read over my shoulder. As soon as he got a glimpse, he asked me what you were doing, writing me a letter.

I punched him. Not just for being nosy, or for startling me, but because he was standing there, that smirk on his face, and he didn't even care about what happened to you. You're right - he is the past. And if I have anything to say about it, he's gonna stay that way. He never deserved you. Hell, I don't even know if I deserve you. I don't know what I could've done to make you want me the way you do, but I'm glad I did it.

I hate the constant beeping of these damn machines. But, it's better than the alternative. The silence would make me crazier than the sound, because the sound is the only way I know you're still here. Your hand is cold in mine. The doctor says you should wake up soon. The drugs they pumped into you are keeping you asleep. I wonder if you're dreaming right now. I wonder if you're in pain. I wonder if you're thinking of me.

The sun is coming up. I've been here for hours. I didn't even shower before I left the arena. Hell, Matt had to convince me to change my clothes before I left. As soon as I could, I came to you. I want to be here when you wake up. I want you to open your eyes, and I want my face to be the first thing you see. I want you to see the love, the longing. I want to see that you're alright. I want to kiss you, hold you.

The nurse just came in to check on you. She said you're doing good. She also said everyone has called to check on you. There's even a few others in the waiting room. She suggested I go out and talk to them, but I'm not leaving you. If you wake up while I'm out of the room, if you open your eyes and I'm not here…I don't want to think about the look on your face. Your beautiful face. You look like Sleeping Beauty laying there. Peaceful. Serene. No hint of the pain you must have felt earlier. No trace of the pain that would be if I left now.

Wait. That's it. Sleeping Beauty. When the witch cast her spell, the only thing that could break it was true love's first kiss. I've always believed in fairy tales. So, when my lips touched yours, I hoped it wasn't my imagination making your eyelids flutter. I hope it wasn't wishful thinking that caused you to smile. I hope that's love I see in your eyes, breaking through the pain you're in. I put my finger over your lips when you try to speak.

I tell you to save your strength. You're gonna need all of it to get better. And I'm going to make sure that happens. Right now, you don't need to speak. We don't need words. The look in your eyes as I smile at you tells me everything I need to know. You love me. I love you. Together, we have plenty of time to figure out the rest of it. Together, we can do anything. And we can do it for a long, long time. Hopefully.