First Love’s Sting

 

 

 

jdbphoto                  

First Love’s Sting 

How deep the piercing, how sharp the sting
once young love starts to lose its bling.
Hearts start to stutter that used to sing.
You aren’t his princess, he’s not your king.
Your broken heart, trapped in a sling,
cannot follow when he takes wing,
taking with him everything.

No veil, no vows, no rice, no ring.
What passed for love was just a fling.
The love you thought would always cling
ripped cruelly with his exiting.
Your song of starlight, love and spring,
alas, was just a passing thing.
You’re left with “. . . . jada jing jing jing.”

No symphony, but just a ditty.
So goes first love, dear.  Such a pity.

 

The prompt yesterday was sting, but since the link still doesn’t work, let’s just say

sometimes, love doesn’t turn out to be as glorious as we might have wished.

14 thoughts on “First Love’s Sting

    1. lifelessons Post author

      And usually realize how lucky we were that first one didn’t stick. I have just realized (not realised, WP) that they must have my spelling preference down as British English rather than American. Every time I use an American spelling that differs from Australian/British, they underline it in red. Just now when I wrote Austrian rather than Australian, they also underlined. Perhaps they do know best.

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  1. Marilyn Armstrong

    Thinking back, my first true love was devastating. I’m not sure that “young love” is less intense than any other. In some ways, it’s the worst because we are so ill-prepared to cope with the results. The various bizarre outcomes of it lasted decades in my life and changed me in more ways than I can count. NOW I mostly find the whole thing humiliating — how could I have been so incredibly stupid? But I was. And not just for a couple of weeks, either. I was incredibly stupid for years.

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    1. lifelessons Post author

      I found out at my 50th reunion that I’d had this devastating effect on my high school boyfriend. His cousin came to the reunion precisely to meet me, tell me how much my boyfriend had loved me and how devastated he’d been when I broke up with him. I never knew this. He died by drowning when the earth moving machine he was operating tipped over into the dam he was working on and landed on the side with the door, pinning him in. Horrible horrible images that I will never get out of my mind. He and his cousin were from a town 23 miles away and it was remarkable that his cousin, whom I had never met before would come to a school reunion in a town where he didn’t know anyone to find me 50 years later. More to this story that I believe I’ve told before.

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      1. lifelessons Post author

        This is the message I get, which doesn’t make much sense as I’m not trying to reserve the name, but as you can see, it also says you don’t exist. –Judy

        (message below is copied from the page I get to when I try to reach your blog: )

        vashopperdor.wordpress.com doesn’t exist
        The address vashopperdor.wordpress.com cannot be registered. Sorry, that site is reserved! But you can sign up and choose another one. Matt Mullenweg

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