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. 

When Being Last is Beautiful

There are always things written about girls but this one is special. You see there has never been anything written about you, and I want to be the first person to do that. There are a lot of firsts I have missed in your life. The first time you held hands, the first time you kissed, the first time you loved, the first person to make you cry. Everyone wants to be first, look at sporting events or famous public figures, first across the finish line in a race, first to walk on the moon and so on… I feel people underestimate the beauty of lasts. The feeling of not being the best can be great with no one on your heels and no pressure of expectations. But the last I speak of is the last man you hug in that way, the last man you kiss seductively, and the last you love. I find beauty in everything now because of you, even in being last. We speak of the one who got away, I have one who got away but she doesn’t compare to the one who didn’t. There are always poems written about girls, the generic quality isn’t lost on me. But when something is written for you its special, you are special. I don’t write to impress others, only you. Rarely in Love does the first last, and that is why with you, Im in no rush to be in first place. Find beauty in the fact that this is the first I have written for you, find beauty in the last I write for you, but not now. The last isn’t now, but hopefully the beauty of it is, forever.

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