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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 - 71. Chapter 71 First Love

An old man looking back.

                                                                                                                                                                    *****

 

First Love

 

How should I describe such as you

To those of mortal flesh

How can I impart your due

In this poesy from my heart

 

What words could possibly serve

To explain your effect on me

Or of how your lips would curve

When I caused you some delight

 

Tell me, dare I touch upon

Honeyed eyes reflecting love

And would you wish to stay anon

Were I to write for you a sonnet

 

To let fly my adoration

As I beheld you in those days

And tell of my distraction

At your devoted presence

 

Should I speak of tawny hair

Or the grace with which you moved

Expound upon your ardent care

Concealed from all but me

 

Alas, we swayed but did not bend

So afraid to admit our truth

And time has taken its stipend

From unspoken love unrequited

 

Contentment comes in many forms

But the loss of us haunts me still

I wish we had ignored such norms

That kept us from acting bravely

 

We cast something pure as jaded

Yet your photo I’ve always carried

With not a single memory faded

I wonder… is it the same for you?

 

Do I inhabit any corner of your life

Or am I a shadow who’s long gone

Looking back, I regret when fear was rife

And bear the injury of our choice

 

I doubt you’ll see this humble ode

Because my shame keeps me pinned

Sorry… I should have heaved the load

My cowardice let me carry

 

I believe you would have followed suit

If I had found my strength

And given smothering doubts the boot

If, just once, I’d taken you in my arms

 

 

*

Thanks for reading. Do you still remember your first love?
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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How do you distinguish a first love from an infatuation?  That's difficult especially for us from the days when our love wasn't acceptable and all we had were longings and dreams and wishful fantasies.  I discount all those we would never meet like film stars or television actors however much we yearned for them.  So, someone in our school or town who we'd see often but perhaps not interact with for that very fear...can it be love if it's one-sided or unspoken?
Was it my real Jay from school as I paint in my story?  We talked, the initial incident of a note happened and yet I feared being more than a casual friend.  Maybe it was my first sexual partner--a friend who once the subject was broached of my first coming out, offered to guide me, only to later marry after several years?
Over the years there were chances, but none worked out until the most unlikely came into the picture.  A friend's friend met in a group one evening, being warned off him as being unaccepting...then having him appear at my doorstep months later asking to be friends, that later turned to more  and lasted over a decade though the big L was seldom said but mutually understood.
So, I guess I'd have to say, my first was also my last, for once he died, the spirit was gone.  Memories can be bittersweet, but also a wonderful reliving of life's best moments shared.  Was it a Grand Romance?  I don't know because we were together and sparks flew and energized us, and that was enough for me.
Miss you still, K.   

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Beautiful sentiments, Gary.

I wonder just how many of our generation look back on that first love that dared not speak its name? At that time when what we felt was considered by the rest of society to be so far outside the norm that we didn't even believe it to be possible ourselves.

Thankfully many of the current generation do not need to deny their feelings. Don't need to hide their love away..

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15 hours ago, ColumbusGuy said:

How do you distinguish a first love from an infatuation?  That's difficult especially for us from the days when our love wasn't acceptable and all we had were longings and dreams and wishful fantasies.  I discount all those we would never meet like film stars or television actors however much we yearned for them.  So, someone in our school or town who we'd see often but perhaps not interact with for that very fear...can it be love if it's one-sided or unspoken?
Was it my real Jay from school as I paint in my story?  We talked, the initial incident of a note happened and yet I feared being more than a casual friend.  Maybe it was my first sexual partner--a friend who once the subject was broached of my first coming out, offered to guide me, only to later marry after several years?
Over the years there were chances, but none worked out until the most unlikely came into the picture.  A friend's friend met in a group one evening, being warned off him as being unaccepting...then having him appear at my doorstep months later asking to be friends, that later turned to more  and lasted over a decade though the big L was seldom said but mutually understood.
So, I guess I'd have to say, my first was also my last, for once he died, the spirit was gone.  Memories can be bittersweet, but also a wonderful reliving of life's best moments shared.  Was it a Grand Romance?  I don't know because we were together and sparks flew and energized us, and that was enough for me.
Miss you still, K.   

I just want to hug you fiercely right now, buddy. :hug:  I wish with all my heart things had turned out differently for you and Kevin... I wish that for me too sometimes. I never had any doubts about what I was feeling... it's still there, and it still comes with pain attached. Love you, my dear friend. :kiss: 

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22 minutes ago, Marty said:

Beautiful sentiments, Gary.

I wonder just how many of our generation look back on that first love that dared not speak its name? At that time when what we felt was considered by the rest of society to be so far outside the norm that we didn't even believe it to be possible ourselves.

Thankfully many of the current generation do not need to deny their feelings. Don't need to hide their love away..

It's nice when someone totally understands just how difficult those times were. Our loves weren't perverted... it was the minds of people who considered us abominations that were 'wrong.' The problem was, it wasn't so clear and cut and dried at the time. I was surrounded by all these expectations... and so was he, and fear, and confusion, and self hate clouded my vision. I still feel that love, and it still makes me sad. Thanks, Marty. :hug:    

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9 hours ago, Job said:


My first love married someone else, I saw him 5 years later, his partner was extremely jealous; but when we shook hands, he held my hand a little longer and said "" You never quite forget your first love.'' No regrets, he has still the loving eyes and great smile. I wish him well.

Thanks for sharing a beautiful, personal moment, buddy. I hope mine is happy too. :hug: 

3 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

Yes, I well remember him. Like you, I recall details of outline and shade of flesh in the sun. The recollection is bittersweet, and melancholy too - just as your lovely poem is. 

I can recall everything... many shared moments to play like a movie in my head. The clarity of those times is both comforting and painful. Bittersweet and melancholy... exactly. Thanks for sharing your memory, Parker. :hug: 

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