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    Headstall
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Headstall's Reflections - 38. Chapter 38 Merry Christmas, My Love

Dedicated to Ken.
A lot of us grew up in a different time. Life was difficult and often dangerous for a gay man or woman. Some of us took what we could get, and held on tight, accepting the cruelty life would often thrust upon us. We made the best of who we were in whatever way we could. There are many stories... too many... and this story salutes those who came before our bravely-fought-for freedom. Merry Christmas!

Headstall’s Reflections

 

 

Chapter 38 Merry Christmas, My Love

 

 

He shuffles along with a painful gait

Perfect example of the ravage of years

A stoplight reddens to make him wait

While stinging snow evokes nervous tears

 

Another Christmas day spent all alone

Home and family now only memories

Past sins exist for which he'd atone

But fate has already collected its fees

 

A jacket too thin catches brutal wind

And sends a chill down inside his bones

As he waits all of his hopes are pinned

On reaching the bank of outside phones

 

A flash of green tells him he can go

On a race to cross before it reverts

Doubly hard through the slushy snow

But only one thing can soothe his hurts

 

Love undying through a sad life’s haze

For forty-eight years a secret call made

A promise that harkens to younger days

And a need that time has failed to fade

 

Numb digits force coins into the small slot

Dialing a number while swallowing doubt

Praying that one more year has been bought

Terrified of hearing their time has run out

 

The ringing stops and that voice fills his ear

Happy whisper of waiting on his call all morn

Tremulous heart soars as he lets go of fear

And with Ken’s next words he becomes reborn

 

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

Happy holidays to all... may love be part of them....
Copyright © 2017 Headstall; All Rights Reserved.
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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On 12/22/2016 10:56 AM, MacGreg said:

"But only one thing can soothe his hurts.

 

Love undying through a sad life's haze."

 

That hits me to the core. This poem evokes sadness and joy and all kinds of emotion. I get it. Vety much so. Merry Christmas to you.

Thanks, Mac. I'm glad you get this little story, and felt the emotions... cheers, and Merry Christmas... Gary...

I can't really say anything about this one, Gary. It hits far too close to home for me, only I don't have that person to call, only a few friends who don't fit the role of a lover, alas. Still, I wouldn't trade their friendship for the sexual thrills...for me a friend is rarer to find and almost as close as a belovèd soul-mate.
Tears aren't often a nice gift for Christmas, but this poem showed me that there are people out there who still are worthy of them and bring us to realize that thoughts of love aren't gone from the world.

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On 12/22/2016 11:03 PM, ColumbusGuy said:

I can't really say anything about this one, Gary. It hits far too close to home for me, only I don't have that person to call, only a few friends who don't fit the role of a lover, alas. Still, I wouldn't trade their friendship for the sexual thrills...for me a friend is rarer to find and almost as close as a belovèd soul-mate.

Tears aren't often a nice gift for Christmas, but this poem showed me that there are people out there who still are worthy of them and bring us to realize that thoughts of love aren't gone from the world.

It's beautiful, what you write here, CG, and I agree about friends. For a long time many of us lived a life thrust upon us, or lost a love because of the times. There are a million stories... this was just one of them... love you, buddy... Merry Christmas... Gary xoxoxoxoxo

On 12/23/2016 07:26 AM, LitLover said:

This made me both happy and sad. I kind of walked away wanting to give someone a hug. I was happy there was an answer on the other end of the line. I can't imagine the pain there will be when there is no longer an answer. :/

Thanks, Lit. It was all these men could have, sad as that is, so they made do. It had to be enough. The world has always had the ability to be unkind... and many like this pair had no choice but to suffer through it... cheers, and Merry Christmas, my friend.... Gary xoxo

On 02/20/2017 08:54 AM, northie said:

Just re-read this as I didn't leave a comment the first time around.

 

Loneliness, pain, sadness are the part of so many peoples' Christmas. You give this tale an extra tweak, an extra dose of pathos by the beautifully judged ending.

 

I'm so glad I read it again.

Thank you, northie. Christmas is a difficult time of year for a lot of people. The import we put upon it can magnify our emotions, and our regrets. The one thing I know is that this pair are not the only ones kept apart by sometimes cruel circumstances. I take solace that love is a hard thing to kill, and it can reside in our core for a lifetime... I'm glad you read this again too... it means a lot to me... cheers... Gary....

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