Progressive Alternative Writing Exercises: How Bad (or Good) Was It?


joy of pain, sorrow of love…
love and marriage, intimate relations, compassion, and lust are suppose to be wonderful, inspiring, uplifting, and great. the real world has no idea about the lies fairytales tell.

to this day, i don’t know if i should call the whole incident bad or good. the pain was not worth the relationship or energy wasted. then again, fond memories creep. i just know that the day she told me we were done had an impressive and volatile impact on my persona and view of the world, altering my life…

after a long ridiculous day at a dead-end job, i arrive to her father’s trailer, responding to her open-ended voicemail “come over so we can talk”
the nation had just put away masks and capes, nurse outfits, goblin ware, and other such things, but were already preparing for turkey and pie. the day had a slight chill. in honesty, hindsight might have brought upon chiller temps.
i knocked on the trailer door, most likely smiling like a dumbass. as she opened the door her usual smile was absent and the hug i anticipated did not come.
i heard nothing from her moving lips, rather, can’t remember, not until she stated she wanted to know what it would be like to sleep with her new coworker. she knew of him for almost a month. our two years did not weigh when in comparison to curiosity and lust, for an attention-craving young woman seeking acceptance at multiple levels. i had already lost without recognizing.
i was broken and stupid and betrayed. i cried like an idiot; if a time machine were invented i’d go back to that day and slap the $#!% out of the tearful bafoon. hindsight and such.
i recall pleading for second chances, which is odd i know. i had done nothing wrong so why a second chance? i remember tongue betraying my shattering heart, fueled by grief. exactly how unkind i was, i don’t think too much. something along the lines of “selfish liar” which is how i felt for the briefest of moments.
afterward i remained alone for a long while, no attempts at dating and all the nonsense intertwined even. i looked out for me, partied, prayed, dreamed, and trusted few. just under 3 years i relished the single bachelor life. then, a previous fancy made their motives known, which turned out to be false and deceptive. that is a chapter not worth visiting.

…since the day the woman i had wanted to marry decided to say “f#(% fate” and move down a different path, i have grown, and continue to grow, with regards to relationships and emotions.
it has aided in my realistic, non-nostalgic approach to intimacy, compassion, and relations. still i am unsure if that is bad or good. it is simple forward progress, which in itself is neither good or bad, just an absolute.

i must admit, i am a stronger, though be it testy, gentleman.


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