BendtedWreath

As warned, this is a glimpse of when we allow the actions of others to hurt and overtake us to the degree of wishing to harm others back.

A dark look at the choices a controlling partner might make. - This warning gave me pause, not because I personally experienced a partner like this, but far too many family members, and myself. It wasn't nearly enough to get me not to read, though. So, time to dive in. You said you'd protect me, you didn't You said you'd heal me, you didn't You said you'd never leave, you did - A jealousy and anger that blinds, all stemming from a possessive believe that another being belongs to you. I've spent many years moving further and further away from this manner of thinking, as it all boils down to fear. Fear keeps us from making the connections we were meant to make, those beyond that of an intimate partner. It keeps us from knowing our own selves. It numbs our senses, down to the ground we walk on and the air we breathe. Countering that fear by trusting even though we're often betrayed, loving even though we've often experienced heartbreak, and stopping long enough to take some real oxygen in to ground ourselves on this spinning planet... that takes a degree of resilience that builds gradually from consistently standing back up after being knocked down. I say this and yet there is no perfect, infallible method of achieving balance.

This poet is versatile and talented, drilling right to the source of relatable pain and concerns.

Oh, that I could relive that exquisite summer, when life wasn’t about decisions and gentle companionship was enough, adulthood being something for others - (I may or may not have just shed a tear by this point) Regrets, though, devour pretense that my choices were brave ones Self-preserving and stubborn, yes, yet undeniably cowardly in the end - (I felt that.) Pride is beautiful, except when tarnishing truth, turning it ugly - (Amazing!)

This entry bares the writer's soul and emotions without even using their own words. I felt it all loud and clear.

The way you presented these quotes was powerful; resonant; poignant!

These poems draw forth images of the West and offers glimpses of the real men beneath the Stetsons.

So he chose the trail, though the nights ran cold, Chose the stories that never get told. Chose the grit, the dust, the long hard ride— For a man’s true compass lives inside. - Nice! I chose the trail before me, Not the love that turned away. Some hearts ain’t meant for keeping, No matter how you pray. - This is true.

Rhaelce looked surprised. “No lukka,” he said. “You no wrong. He wrong.”/“Me orreki?” Malik asked./Rhaelce looked thoughtful, but then nodded. “Orreki,” he agreed, and gave him a pat on the back. - That Rhaelce already sees Malik as family is deeply moving. While I understand the bystander's concern, if Malik was a threat to the kids, Rhaelce wouldn't have had him help him watch them. “What ‘romsarasily’?” Malik asked, his mouth stretching around the vowels./Lyria’s cheeks took on a greenish cast. “Uh…” she cast around for words to explain, but when they failed her, she held up her hands and made a gesture that unmistakably imitated sex./Malik’s mouth dropped open and Lyria giggled nervously. His eyes drifted back to Rhaelce and he couldn’t help but see his movements differently with his new information. - Hahaha! He quickly dropped his hand and felt the tingling vanish. He knew without looking that the fire was gone./Lyria didn’t say anything, but Malik did notice that she kept her distance most of the night. He was happy to let her. - I have to give Lyria some credit here. It's sheer street smarts to see something wild and then trying to mind her own business instead of snitching. “Please,” he whispered./Rhaelce stayed where he was. “Yes?” he asked./“Yes.” - Consent was indeed given. So many things happened in this chapter. It was very dynamic. We had the family bonding that was cut short and the ensuing tension, the Rosala ceremony/festivities, Malik making a new friend in Lyria, fire, Malik possibly losing the new friend Lyria, and Rhaelce's Romsarasily prayer, which actually worked.

That's a relief on my part, as I tried my best not to drag Cassie's writing style down too hard. In terms of flow, we checked in as often as possible. Some parts didn't play out how it was originally planned (not that I can remember specific ones at this point), but the key moments shone through, and I'm glad of it. Cute is relatively on brand for me, I think. 🤣 The specific interweaving of the transitions was thanks to Cassie's expertise.

On this, I'm sure Cassie and I both agree. In this particular case, Cassie already had the idea in mind of estranged friends reuniting. She wrote one part, we discussed where it might go from there, then I'd write the next part, we'd discuss where to go from there, and so on. It was a challenge for me technically, as I'm not only the less experienced writer, I've also never written in 1st POV before this story (I caught myself slipping into third a few times). But about halfway through, the characters themselves felt established enough that it wasn't as difficult to keep them consistent.

Thanks on behalf of us both!

Thanks on behalf of us both!

I think because I was born closer to the tail end of that generation, I find myself most at ease with everyone born in that timeframe... more than others my age and younger. They are more than a bridge to me, they are beacons and guides that I admire. More often than not, they are not quick to judge, and they treat mistakes like learning opportunities rather than a chance to shame. The ones I've interacted with (both in person and online) are incredibly independent and value vacation time, as the video suggests, to disconnect. It's disheartening to imagine that they feel lonely due to the advancements other generations weren't forced to learn halfway into their lifespans, but the way things are going with AI, it's only a matter of time before my own generation gets a taste of that. 😅

Thanks, Chris!

Thanks on behalf of us both!

It was wishful thinking, wishful thinking. 😂

There was a bit of a delay in posting, but this story is still very new. Thank you for your kind words and for reading! Good point. 🤔I did miss adding a closer at the bottom. But this is still very much, as Cassie said, a oneshot.

Jace never thought he'd see Louis again, especially not at a wedding packed with old faces and even older drama. One encounter is all it takes for old feelings to come flooding back, making it impossible to pretend the past never happened. As the reception unfolds, Jace is forced to face just how much he's still carrying and, maybe, what he still wants.

A Second Dance By Cassie and Ben *** I recognized my former friend the second he walked into the ballroom. Louis looked older, like the rest of us, but still had those piercing grey eyes that perfectly matched the suit he wore. He wore his blond hair differently than when we were teenagers, cut shorter and more professional, but the ready smile was the same. I wasn't sure what kind of path he had taken, straight to work as I did, or the college route, but he looked cool an

There wasn't a single poem that didn't land. Thanks for everyone's contributions.

Don't let the title and warnings scare you. This one's a banger.

I wrote this song lyric many, many years ago. The "homosexual panic defense" -- the idea that if a straight man thinks that a gay man is coming on to him sexually, then he might panic and then, understandably and justifiably, might murder said gay man - was in the news. - (Uh-oh. I have a bad feeling about this.) Who now can know what wandering of soul it did require To turn a burning envy into bodily desire? - (Oof. That line.) As Abel had no children, we're most likely sons of Cain. They branded Cain an outcast; the brand on some remains. - Now I want to hear this as a song.

Don't be fooled. This is no small offering. There is nothing small in the manner in which it provokes thought.

as if its preference might matter to a tired, thirsty world where it falls? - (On that note, I pity the clouds that get swept up into hurricanes.) This one was profound.