My Love Of West Point-Personal Narrative

Have you ever suffered? Did you get better or never quite recover? Did you find your lover laying with another? I did. No one tells you how cruel the world can be, or how to cope with tragedy and pain. I had been out of town for months away in the Army, and had come back to no warm welcome. My life, my love, my fiancée was with another. I had always held on deeply to her whispering seductively in my ear “always”, but always is valueless and I wish I never heard her speak a word. Loves funny, the way one day it’s there and the next it’s not. It doesn’t ask to be excused and once it’s gone, it’s gone for good. Looking back on when we were together, before this monster came in to wreak his havoc, maybe I never tried hard enough and it’s my fault.
I was scared, scared of our adolescent love and where it would lead. I kissed my fear instead of her. The rumbling of the train drowns out my thoughts into reality. I’m on my way West Point, I’m on my way to New York, a lifelong dream of mine, something I’ve been awaiting for a while. West Point has always been somewhere in between delusion and prophesy and now…. Now I couldn’t be bothered, I find it now intimidating, daunting, it has a castle like structure and it feels uninviting. I want to write, I want my work to flood the minds of others and inspire. I no longer want war, I want no part of it. As I’m skimming through the newspaper at hand, I see an article on how some madman burnt the York Cathedral to the ground. Oh how I long to be the one to write that, a grand soliloquy written by me, Edgar Allan Poe, but somehow I put myself on this train. I’m not happy on this train, I’m not happy where this train is taking me, I’m not happy I’m alone, I’m not