My Balladeer - by Margarida Brei

Voice.club
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https://Voice.club - Tacoma, my boyfriend, thought he was a balladeer. His feelings and ideas were expressed by ballad lyrics. Before we met, he swore his unhappiness reduced him to constantly singing Humperdinck’s, “Every day, I wake up, then I start to break up/ Lonely is a man without love.”

Rolling my eyes, I could not imagine Tacoma ever being lonely! His effervescent larger-than-life personality and attractive looks made females audibly sigh.

Losing my balance leaning over a parapet, I literally fell into his arms. Concerned cerulean eyes gazed down at me. My hero enjoyed telling everyone that at this exact moment, “I fell into a burning ring of fire/ I went down, down down/ And the flames went higher/ And it burns, burns, burns.” Like Johnny Cash, Tacoma well described becoming enamoured. His constant bursting into song was enchanting and humorous.

We were compatible, shared interests like nature walks and advocated for the environment. I admired his Peter O’Toole attractiveness- stature, blond hair, stunning looks and charisma. Unfortunately, so did many other women! On a group hike, his long muscular legs took him out of sight. After I rounded a rocky outcrop, my jaw hit the ground. Tacoma was massaging the shapely calf of a voluptuous redhead while enjoying a cosy tête-à-tête! Tacoma’s alluring mannerisms produced a coquettish laugh in the redhead, making me invisible.

He claimed to have only helped a female with muscle cramps, but my heart squeezed shut. I screamed, “Egotistic womaniser!”

Passing a shop on Valentine’s Day, I saw Tacoma whispering to a luscious curvy blonde.

At home, I spat out, “Incorrigible flirt! Two-timer! Skirt chaser! Seducer!” while Tacoma professed his guiltlessness.

I bellowed, “Bye!” and shoved him out the door.

Later, I found a red ribbon which must have fallen out of Tacoma’s pocket. Sobbing hysterically, I uncurled the ribbon and read, “The taste of love is sweet. When hearts like ours meet.” Johnny Cash’s words ended in an engagement ring!

Still alone the next day, I thought like Paul McCartney, “Why did…‘he’ …have to go…? I said something wrong/ Now I long for yesterday.”

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Loved your story, Margarida, most of all, in fact, the fact that she dumped him! Where is the love without trust?

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I guess I had a different take on this story, @GreeneWills

I thought that Tacoma was the one who was unable to trust. Many times when people are just being kind or friendly, their actions are misinterpreted. Tacoma’s “hero” was handsome and charming, and would very easily attract women. But he really could have been helping out a woman with muscle cramps and whispering about the Valentine’s present for Tacoma herself to a “curvy blonde” shop clerk. This story reminds me of the Robert Browning poem “My Last Duchess”:

… she liked whate’er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, ’twas all one! My favour at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace—all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men—good! but thanked
Somehow—I know not how—as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody’s gift.

@MargaridaBrei - You’ve written such a great story, to cause your readers to reflect and consider the many aspects of jealousy and relationships.

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Thanks for sending Robert Browning’s poem. The Duke was jealous and possessive in his marriage. Tacoma’s girlfriend likewise was suspicious and jealous, but was this well founded? I only give the reader a brief glimpse of Tacoma with two other females, and then stepped aside without more of an insight. This opens up some discussion on Tacoma’s professed innocence or his flirtatious nature.
Appreciate your commentary, Julie.

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Greene, I really appreciate your taking the time to read and comment on my short fiction. True love requires trust, and there is always suspicion and jealousy surrounding someone who is too cosy around the opposite sex.