I only ever once felt like I were in love, but now, Calypso has shaken that belief. It’s been only one night, but I have to see her again. And I am tonight. She’s coming by the hotel, as if she were a call girl, but without the payment, unless she’s giving me another freebee; I’d consider her my one chance to make sure the feelings I feel for Jennifer are true, instead of fabricated by the life I created with her. I want to ensure that what I feel for her is exactly what I want, because I do love that woman, but I don’t believe in loving two people at once, and if these new arousing feelings for Calypso are true, then I know Jennifer isn’t the right one for me. And, nonetheless, having to tell her that I slept with someone else …
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) was an American poet. Born in Amherst, Massachusetts, to a successful family with strong community ties, she lived a mostly introverted and reclusive life. After she studied at the Amherst Academy for seven years in her youth, she spent a short time at Mount Holyoke Female Seminary…
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