bobby and i spent one summer together. despite the fact that it was an all-too-brief affair, i will never forget it. nor will i forget him. bobby was my one true love.

alas, all that is over now.

it cannot be said that he was a braveheart. in fact, at the time he was called many other things: wusschops, sissy boy, backstabbing rich bastard. this i never understood. more accurately, i understood why he was given those names, but to this day i cannot conceive of why his own people would dare utter those treacherous words. after all, a member of the "the bruce" family deserves more respect. perhaps my perspective is a unique one. after all, i was never forced to address him as "his highness, the bruce"; i was allowed inside the "the bruce" family inner circle. in fact, i never called him robert, a point which never ceased to astonish his father. but on those lazy afternoons when i stared into his eyes and fancied what the man would look like without his bonny kilt, he never reprimanded me for using my endearing pet name for him: bobby. it was mine alone, and no one could ever take it from me.

but as the summer grew cold and talk of war became more common, bobby's challenging sometimes-friend, sometimes-enemy acquaintance bill took him away from me. he approached the cottage where bobby and i were quietly discussing marriage and hollered to bobby in his classless brogue. the man was less harsh in person than in myth, also a might more handsome than my bobby -- still i hated him because he drew my love away from me with taunts and insults and crazed outbursts about ideals and justice. none of this appealed to me. it is possible that is because i could not understand it -- ideals and justice and war are for men to mete out, not women.

or maybe i refused to understand it, closed my eyes to that harsh world, because it meant that bobby would soon be gone to me. perhaps i sensed that when history was written the "the bruce" name would be overtaken by bill wallace's. let it be known that bill was a crude and crass individual, who used intimidation techniques and brute force to get his way. bobby was gentle and kind, a family man who considered the consequences of his actions and tried to temper his actions with reason, not self-righteousness. still by autumn, bill's constant nagging and taunts had worn down bobby's resolve. i had sensed the change in him -- he often spoke of his undeserved riches and wicked father -- but i never expected to find him championing bill and his hordes of scrappy angry farmers.

i married bobby's brother shortly after he left the "the bruce" estate. you may want to judge me and call my love fickle, or say that i am merely a serf girl after the "the bruce" name. not true. the shame of marrying bobby's older and hideously deformed brother seth was not ever a consideration of mine when i began my brief affair with bobby. i found myself growing round with child and married into the family in a moment of quiet desperation. seth was not as gifted as his brother, and never cared to count the moons to learn that bobby was indeed the true owner of this love-child.

and now i pray. the hordes are nearer to the estate every day, and i pray that the wars will be over before my son is grown. i fear that he too will succumb to the wild jeering of a common man and disappear from my life without so much as a kiss goodbye. and so this child is all i have to remember him by. bobby the bruce, my everything, my downfall.

my beloved.

What you can not find about him is anything inspiring enough to write about. Apparently he was featured in the move 'Braveheart', but I never saw that. I probably could have written a snarky little post about him and Mel Gibson if I had seen it.

I could have seen it if I hadn't cancelled my Netflix account. Who am I fooling? I didn't even know he was in the movie until tonight and that would have been too late and it's like 2 degrees outside and the windchill is ass so you won't see me hauling it down to Blockbuster so I can renew my lapsed membership and pay late fees.

I don't care. I don't care about Robert the Bruce and I don't care about educating you about Robert the Bruce and I don't care to give Blockbuster any more money just so I can watch a movie which by all accounts shows Robert the Bruce in a pretty poor light.

If you've gotten this far on the internet, the surely you can get over to Google and do your own research on Robert the Bruce. I can't be your only guide on this planet, sometimes you have to touch the match to your own hair and light your own way. I'm sure that's what Robert the Bruce would have done. Lit his own hair on fire and led his people to the Scottish Hut Library and handed out sheepskins texts on John Balliol or Robert Bane. Shit, I wasn't going to give you any info and I did it.

Go away.