A/N: This is for Charlie.
Flashbacks in italics.
I don't pretend to be a perfect person.
I don't try to be a perfect person.
So why does everyone expect me to be?
I'm just a simple British girl who fell in love with the wrong thing at the wrong time. That thing is wrestling. It brought me across the pond, somewhere I've always wanted to go.
It also brought me to Jeff.
Of course, they debut the new girl with me. How pathetic is my career becoming? Yeah, I have the Intercontinental Championship and I did get that recent push.
I'm sick of being the sole marketing giant on television for the WWE. Cena's getting boring. No one watches him anymore. I'm stuck pulling everyone's weight around.
This is what I get for working my ass off to improve. They send the new useless talent my way and I have to make them look good.
Do they honestly think that by pairing the new Diva with me that she'll automatically be accepted? No, they know the women's division sucks. Simply being put over in the ring isn't going to do jack shit for her career.
I still remember the first time I met Jeff. He was an asshole. He gave me this long, boring speech about how I can't rely on him to make my career and blah blah blah.
After the match, he told me the same thing. After all, it was his idea for me to use the Swanton Bomb on Melina.
Right now, I feel like my heart has been given a Swanton Bomb by Umaga.
Everyone hates me for what I did to Matt.
Now they hate me for what I did to Jeff.
I'm not really an asshole like my character insinuates. I just have a way with the ladies, I guess.
They're comparing me to Randy Orton now. They're calling me "The Hardy Killer."
I probably shouldn't have gone after Charlie. I mean, yeah, she was Jeff's girlfriend. Yeah, she was drunk. Yeah, she…
Once Lita left, the fans got over the whole Matt Hardy issue.
It's been three years since Charlie quit the WWE, and they haven't gotten over this one yet.
I haven't gotten over it.
Charlie hasn't gotten over it.
And Jeff sure as hell hasn't gotten over it.
It's been three years.
Three, long, terrible years.
I still think about her everyday.
People don't understand how much Charlie really means to me. I know I was a total asshole to her in the beginning, but we grew to be great friends. She was the one who helped me get over Beth.
Eventually, I fell in love with her.
She told me she was in love with me the whole time.
Then why did she cheat with Adam?
"Jeff, are you alright?" I asked, sitting down next to Jeff. He doesn't know it, but…I've secretly prayed for this day. I know that Jeff is hurt right now but…
…is it wrong that I'm happy about this?
"No, it's…it's Beth." Shit, he was crying. Jeff never struck me as one to cry over a girl. He was always so confident.
Damnit, he must really fucking love her.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" I offered. Yeah, I'm fucking in love with him, but if being with Beth is what's going to make him happy, then I guess that I'm screwed.
"Charlie, I caught her cheating! If there's one damn thing that I can't stand, it's a fucking cheater."
What woman in their right mind would cheat on Jeff Hardy, sober or not? She doesn't deserve him…
Two years ago, I did something stupid to try and ease the pain I've been feeling for all this time.
On the two year anniversary of the breakup, I wrote down the culmination of emotions that escalated from what I've done.
It really was only like two sentences.
I stuffed it into a Pepsi bottle and tossed it into the sea.
Jeff was on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. I know the right guy will get it.
Charlie had the week off, and I really wish she was there with me tonight. I just won the Intercontinental Championship from Umaga, and I really wanted to see her. I know she was watching the broadcast live from our hotel room, but it just wasn't the same. I couldn't see her face when it happened like I would have been able to if Vince didn't time things so badly.
Yeah, Vince had the horrible habit of mistiming things.
I'm exhausted as fuck, yet I still made it a point to take the stairs up seven flights to our room. I never liked elevators. They weren't extreme enough for me. I swear, I must have flown up those stairs.
I'm starting to hate all of these pockets I have in my pants. Naturally, my hotel room key was in the last pocket that I checked. Figures.
I hurriedly slid it in the damn slot and watched the light turn green so I could open the door. I couldn't wait to talk about the match with Charlie. She always told me what she liked about my matches and what I could work on to get better. I loved her.
And when I opened the door, my world just crashed down like a head on collision.
She was in the bed with Adam.
I remember the day she left. It still haunts me.
I was the one that drove her to the airport. Jeff didn't want shit to do with it.
One week after they broke up, she quit.
She booked a flight back to England. I drove her from Toronto to New York for the flight. She never got to say goodbye to Jeff. I think he would have liked that.
I haven't spoken to her since.
I didn't want her to explain.
Adam tried to on multiple occasions, but I didn't care.
He screwed me over just like he screwed my older brother over. That's unforgivable.
I suppose I should have listened to her. Maybe she wouldn't have run away then.
I can't call her. I told her once before that I hate cheaters. When Beth cheated on me, I hated her. I still do.
But I can't for the life of me hate Charlie.
She was drunk. That much I knew. I've always lived to the notion that the drunk mind speaks the sober heart. Obviously, she didn't love me anymore and this was her way of telling me.
She may have fallen out of love with me, but I damn sure am still in love with her.
I haven't spoken to a single damn person from the WWE since I left. Adam calls once in a while, but I don't answer. If he was smart, he would block his ID from showing up on my phone.
I miss him. He was a good friend.
On countless occasions, I've picked up the phone and dialed all of Jeff's numbers except the last one, only to hang the phone back up. I'm afraid that if I talk to him, he'll…freak out or something. I don't want him to hate me anymore. I can't move on without him.
Last week, I found something. I was walking along the beach near my new home in Tampa.
It was a Pepsi bottle with a letter inside. I didn't think people still did that sort of thing.
I'll be the first to admit that I am very curious. I opened the letter, read it, and kept it ever since.
I miss you. I still love you.
I miss you, too, Charlie.
A/N: I feel better now. I've been harboring this idea inside me for a couple of days now.
The point was that the wrong guy ended up finding the letter, so don't get confused.