MY FOOLISH HEART
MY FOOLISH HEART
I was watching when Kid and Lou left the church on their wedding
day. Lou was a vision in her dress, the crown of flowers she wore in her hair
the
perfect accent to a bride of her loveliness. She looked very happy, and the
Kid was obviously beside himself with joy. Their friends crowded around them,
showering them with love and affection. I knew she had made the right choice.
I left just after that, riding back to McDaniel Falls, back
to the house that Harry and I had occupied, and that, for such a short time,
had housed
the woman who had changed my life. The best I could do was go on with it, and
remember her, for:
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste.
There are, after all, still stagecoaches to be waylaid, still rich, fat
men with big bellies and bigger pocketbooks who were practically begging to
be
relieved of some of their load. There were others out there who would be willing
to take Harry's place; maybe I could join up with someone else. I
had run into one particular man some time back, a man in my chosen line of work,
whom I got along well with. He was in charge of his men, but I was more than
willing to step aside and let another man lead. I wanted to be relieved of responsibility;
I wanted someone else to make the decisions.
I took one last look at the house before I rode out. Perhaps this time I would hold on to the things I took. Maybe I could buy myself a house, maybe sail back to my birthplace. Perhaps I could find my father, if he was still alive. Maybe I would even get married, although I doubted it. I wouldn't want a woman to feel the burden of Lou's memory lingering in my heart. My story is at a close, then. A man thwarted in love, content to live with memories and not the reality. The only interesting thing about me was falling in love with Lou, and even that was hardly an original tale: life is full of lovers separated by circumstance. I must be happy with the knowledge that she felt something of what I felt.
I'm eager to begin working again. Now I have only to find Frank James.
Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say good night till it be morrow...