Vidal's Verse

I am still haunted by memories and feelings that should have long ago passed. The problematic curse of an almost perfect memory. Do I remember the days perfectly or do I remember her as being perfect?

These are just stories told poetically. This is a place for my words to live. Some lead good lives and others not so much. I would call these Poetic Stories. 

A Heart Breaking for the Second Time in the Light of a Fireside Romance

In my minds narratives I’m always the good guy. Never deserving of a fate that wasn’t less than, at the very least, preferable. About six months outside of breaking up with a girl I found myself going to a bonfire at a friends house, although she didn’t know these people I brought the girl I was seeing at the time. My downfall being that these friends of mine were also friends of my ex. My lack of foresight lead to something that bothers me to this day when my mind decides to remind me of how bad a person I can be. I never cry at things, not funerals, not with girls, not with anything really. When I broke up with my girlfriend, six months prior to this fire side disaster, I did; I cried. It wasn’t because I felt like it, or because I was overly sad. Its because at points, despite how I like to think of myself, I have a bad heart. I cried to put on a show, although I never cry because emotions get the best of me I can “cry” on command. To prove that this hurts me as much as her, and to make it easier by giving her the idea that if I was this upset then of course it cant be permanent. But that night when I decided that this night is it, this is the night I have to do this, or be trapped; I knew it would be forever that we remained apart. There was an excitement of looming freedom on my part, and in her eyes of impending heartbreak. She knew it was coming, and she didn’t like it or agree with it at all. From mutual friends accounts she didn’t forgive me for some time, and still hasn’t although she is married now. That’s why six months later by a fire I didn’t know she would be at I was torn. The girl I took my heart back from, and for the sake of laughter for the universe I guess, sitting right next to her the one I gave it to instead. The heartbreak she must have felt, as if for some cruel reason I decided to rub it in her face that I no longer cared for her, but instead this new girl who sat in her place. So imagine my dismay when I reached down and tapped my new found girls knee to get her attention to tell her something and she took it as a sign I wanted to hold hands. And we did. I sat there torn between my feelings for this new girl and the disgust I knew was there from everyone else; My ex and our mutual friends. Its as if I took that dagger from six months ago and gave it a twist. Right before taking it out swiftly and nimbly positioning it for my inevitable falling upon it myself, as if karma said no you deserve this, you will suffer as much as the girl you tormented; That night by a fire, with all eyes on you, while you broke a girls heart for a second time.

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