Poignant Pockets

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1161

Abstract

n my staff on <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-universes-bag-of-tricks-1f7d474fb64b">Impartnership</a>s.</p><p id="7af6">I still call or email Jenny every few years on July 9th — her birthday. We divorced 22 years ago. I thought she was my soulmate, my first love, and even though that is so not true, a part of her remains imprinted on my soul. We met on January 9th, 1995, were engaged in early 1996, and got married that October 28th. The first of several separations began June 28, 1996. By the time I finally surrendered on Rosh H’ashanna or Yom Kippur 1998 we had been separated on and off for half of the 3 years we had been married.</p><p id="6624">Why did I hang on so fucking tight? I was desperate for love.</p><p id="21f0">Why did this handsome boy not get laid until I was 24 and only then because my best friend and his girlfriend pimped out one of her friends to me? Why did I marry my first girlfriend and why did I not have a first girlfriend until 27? I know the why (love-desperate) and I sort of know the how behind the why, though the specifics of how my father managed to rip any semblance of inner esteem from me may always remain a my

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stery, and that’s fine because that boy no longer exists, as the strength and courage of my writing reflect, which manifests itself way beyond words. I no longer accept nor take shit from anyone, and I fight for what I believe is right and against what I know is wrong — case in point:</p><div id="fdfd" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/jaccuse-453866221e2c"> <div> <div> <h2>J’Accuse…!</h2> <div><h3>The Assemblage’s propaganda revealed for what it is — a scapegoating smear campaign</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*V_Wi0RTdZxfU11R0bWJ8VQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="65b7">Anyway, I knew that Jenny still and always will have a wistful place in my heart despite how utterly wrong we were for each other, but I did not know until the answer to your prompt revealed, that I still carry sadness attached to the moment of surrender.</p></article></body>

I didn’t know I still mourn the loss of my starter marriage

Writer’s Note:

𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘊., tu es incroyable. You are a vessel for channeled inspiration. In saying that I do not diminish your talent for coming up with deeply probing prompts — I honor it. Please allow me, well you can’t stop me, to recognize your gift by appointing you as an editor at Channspirations. This does not burden you with a scintilla of obligation. I do so so you can post your own coinspirations that may not desire housing in KTHT anytime you or your guides or the universe suggests. You would also be a wonderful mentor to burgeoning poets and hope that you will join my staff on Impartnerships.

I still call or email Jenny every few years on July 9th — her birthday. We divorced 22 years ago. I thought she was my soulmate, my first love, and even though that is so not true, a part of her remains imprinted on my soul. We met on January 9th, 1995, were engaged in early 1996, and got married that October 28th. The first of several separations began June 28, 1996. By the time I finally surrendered on Rosh H’ashanna or Yom Kippur 1998 we had been separated on and off for half of the 3 years we had been married.

Why did I hang on so fucking tight? I was desperate for love.

Why did this handsome boy not get laid until I was 24 and only then because my best friend and his girlfriend pimped out one of her friends to me? Why did I marry my first girlfriend and why did I not have a first girlfriend until 27? I know the why (love-desperate) and I sort of know the how behind the why, though the specifics of how my father managed to rip any semblance of inner esteem from me may always remain a mystery, and that’s fine because that boy no longer exists, as the strength and courage of my writing reflect, which manifests itself way beyond words. I no longer accept nor take shit from anyone, and I fight for what I believe is right and against what I know is wrong — case in point:

Anyway, I knew that Jenny still and always will have a wistful place in my heart despite how utterly wrong we were for each other, but I did not know until the answer to your prompt revealed, that I still carry sadness attached to the moment of surrender.

Tuesday’s Prompt: My reluctant but oh-so-right first divorce

Poignant Pockets

I didn’t know I still mourn the loss of my starter marriage

J’Accuse…!

The Assemblage’s propaganda revealed for what it is — a scapegoating smear campaign