My First Real Love (Too Bad You Aren't Aware of It)

My First Real Love (Too Bad You Aren’t Aware of It)


I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

~Evanescence, “My Immortal”

When we first met, you were a shy kid, clinging to your mother as if she were a lifeline and eyes filled with tears of fear and desperation, so scared about your very first day of elementary school. I know it sounds so silly and adorable when I tell it like this, but at those times, at our age, it was a huge step for us to be separated from our parents, something we had rarely experienced in seven years.

I remember crying for my mother and my father too, when I first came. But the moment they left, and my teacher smiled at me and the kids asked me to come join them in their game, the once-cold tension that had swept over me when my parents departed thawed instantly, and I finally wiped away my tears, a smile gracing my lips.

You were the last one to arrive, and you were so scared. So I did what the others had done for me. I smiled and asked you to play with me. You were wary but you stepped away from your parents, and I felt my insides flipping with excitement and my cheeks blushing, my face feeling like it would be split apart by the bigness of my grin.

Now, looking back at those memories, I realize I miss you so much. You changed, a fact that I really want to deny. I watched you change into a stranger, a cold-faced, irresponsible stranger who never returns my gaze. You are so close to me physically, but you are so far away mentally and emotionally. Disdaining your emotions and keeping especially distant from me. Everyday, I wonder, “If you wanted to leave your past life and friends behind, why are you still here, still so close to me and lingering in every corner of my life?” It hurts, seeing you every day from afar, seeing you talking with different people, laughing with your head thrown back, making crazy gestures with your hands. It pains me to see I’m not the one you are speaking to, the one you are laughing with.

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

We spent every waking moment of our lives together; we shared laughter, tears, anger, joy, sadness, hatred, we experienced them all, all, together. We grew up together, we had known each other since we were six; each observed the other developing into a beautiful person. We watched as Father Time and our own hands developed our personalities like a potter molds a hunk of clay: me into a shy person…you into a complete stranger.

When you first started to leave me to walk over to the table of The Popular Kids at lunchtime, I felt a small crack fissure my heart. Although my knowledge of such situations, based on what was shown in movies, was very vague, I was worried that you would transform into one of those dim-witted, monster boys who call themselves jocks. You were a smart and athletic kid, handsome and so damn pure and kind-hearted that it always pains me to remember you like that, curly hair astray over your round head and a big, dimpled grin spread across your face, eyes shinning with innocence and kindness, always so willing to help and cheer somebody up.

Remembering you like that, even though my memories leave scars all over my soul (if such a thing really exists), I encircle the past in a smothering embrace. I look down at the pieces of shattered golden memories, shattered innocence, watching as your eyes dim of compassion and untainted, innocent love.

Believing that you will wake up from that horrible dream, believing that you will see the light, the reality…I - I know I’m just coloring my eyes blind with bright colors, knowing that even though hope springs eternal from the human heart, my hopes are empty, hollow, they are fragile vases whose crazed glass is on the verge of shattering.

I know that even Father Time can never erase my memories, they are so intense and too many and too much to forget.

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears

The tears that I brushed away from your cinnamon cheeks whenever you despaired or when you were hurt as a child, they are engraved into my mind, in a very special place of their own. When your parents divorced, I was the one who comforted you, wiped away your tears.

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears

I chased away the nightmares, the silent screams that you had inside you yet that I saw as clear as a cloudless sky, the silly bugs that you were so afraid of, the bullies who tried to harm you, it was me, IT WAS ALL ME! I was your protector, why can’t you remember this?! Why can’t you remember the very precious moments we had together instead of stupid basketballs and the dunks or whatever they were that you did at the last game!!

I held your hand through all of these years

I was the one who walked you through all the stages of your life, we depended on each other, but I was secretly and embarrassingly clinging to your presence, to the fact that you were with me through everything, that we were an inseparable team!

But you still have
All of me

But even with that, even with a broken heart and shattered soul, a burned picture of bright future together, I’m always ready to help you because I’m so hopelessly in love with you, through our silly talks, our tears, our bickering, I have realized I fell in love but you haven't realized it. I just hope that you understand that I’m here for you, always was, always will be.

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind

The charm of your personality, the charm of your face and your smile is so enchanting that from the very first time I saw you, I felt warmth (some sort of light) radiating from your body, even when you were scared or sad. It was comforting, captivating, full of happiness and love. Like a warm sun appearing after a dark cloudy day, illuminating everything and everyone around it, making them smile, warm from the bliss in their faces and hearts.

I spend every second of my life remembering our joined moments of the past, tied down to them like a man sent to the depths of the sea with a heavy rock fixed to his ankles, without any chance of salvation, so painfully aware of his imminent end at the dark, gloomy and bone-white hand of Death. I am the man there and the memories are my weight, my rock. I’m falling deeper into the ocean that is life, suffocating at every moment, my lungs filling with the salty water of my teardrops. I’m drowning and dying a slow death, dark spots appearing slowly in my eyes yet the welcoming blanket of darkness does not cover me with its infinity.

Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

Childish dreams used to color my sleeping mind, the dreams of being a superhero or being the part of a royal family, such silly things. Having a family with my only true love, with my hero in shining armor, with my white-horsed prince…The prince would always be you.

But the reality was cruel and always slapped me in the face harshly, saying ‘Don’t be stupid, kid! The man in shiny armor is always a loser wrapped in silver foil, he will break your heart like a twig! Stop being a love-sick idiot and be realistic!’ but hey, can’t a person imagine and dream? Can’t somebody just want to escape from the cold and unpleasant reality of life for a few glorious minutes, lost in unreal, impossible dreams that many mortals wish could happen?

As we grew up, your once angelic voice started to chase away my dreams, turned them into something twisted, something nightmarish made out of things that no sane mortal would ever imagine to dream, as if I were in the horrendous world that was portrayed in American McGee’s Alice, where our no-longer-innocent character Alice was a cold and completely insane girl of fifteen who hid far more vulnerable feelings deep in her soul, buried six-feet-under her heart.

I feel like Alice at the moment, you are chasing away the very pieces of my shattered sanity. I feel like laughing while crying, I feel like apologizing while beating somebody to the point of cold death, I feel like I’m confusing reality with fantasy, I feel like I’m seeing what isn’t in front of me, I feel like I’m hearing screams, voices that nobody else hears…

I feel like I should kill everybody around you. Because you are mine, always were, always are and always will be. As obsessive as it sounds, it is true; perhaps I’m an insanely obsessive person who clings to the past like a snake to its prey, perhaps I’m just overreacting, perhaps I’m void of any other hopes from life, I don’t know, maybe I’m just confused, but I don’t know, I just don’t know!

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

Looking out of the window up at the solemn grey sky and descending autumn rain, I frown and try to will away the very feeling of crying. I try to tell myself ‘You are gone, boy. You are gone and I’m all alone’. I look up at the white ceiling, spotless and irritatingly so. I guess I always dislike perfect things because they seem so surreal to me, everything, everybody has flaws and faults that make them special, what make them ordinary. Just like you, just like me, just like the little bird in a tree; we all have our flaws and that makes us beautiful, makes us imperfectly perfect in an oxymoronic way.

You are here, talking with my family and at my house, sitting right next to me, but you are so distant. I’m so alone, in my large family crowded around the couch, I’m basically alone in a crowd, nobody pressures me to utter even the shortest word, it seems like nobody would notice or care if I added my two-cents into the conversation.

Then everything silently (in physical sense), yet mentally loudly, crashes down upon my head; you stole away my childhood by only being yourself, you filled every corner of my mental memory archive with your presence, with your fragrance and light, you stole away my very heart and soul with just being you, with just being so imperfect and so lovable in my eyes. I know I should probably hate you, but I can’t because…I don’t know, I guess I’m hopelessly hopeful for you to see me, recognize my love for you.

Somebody wasn't lying when they said love is the slowest form of suicide, they are right, it kills a person yet also makes them live, it kills hope and gives birth to it, it is so absurd and stupid, merely a hormonal hurricane and yet it’s also a drug that everybody is hopelessly addicted to, a universal drug that nobody is able to give up.

I realize that, as I sort out all this, I am all alone. I have no friends to talk to (I’m so shy, and I get so nervous around people, the cat gets my tongue), I have no family members who worry about me (although it doesn’t surprise me, as I have two older siblings my parents always fuss over, and as said siblings are quite the slackers and troublemakers while I am a quiet yet studious, trouble-free kid), you were always with me but now with what distance…

I realize that I’ve been all alone for all these years, and I smile in joyful sorrow; reality really bites people in the rear so harshly and quickly. When you realize it, the pain shoots through your body so fast and sharp. And that’s what just happened to me, and I smile behind a hand once again; the truth has never been a sweeter poison.

THE END

awesome! you're a very good writer. keep it up!

Thank you so much, my friend! If you have any confusion about the story, please ask, I will be happy to help you! Thank you again for reading and reviewing!

This was one word: Amazing. It nearly brought me to tears because I have had the same kind of experience. All through seventh grade me and this boy were best friends, and then he suddenly was the quarter-back in eigth grade and he just...ugh long story. But this totally hit home for me. Thank you so much! Oh and plus, I loved how you tied in My Immortal into it. I loved that because I totally love that song! Great job!

Oh my goodness, I'm sorry for that! But you know what my father always tells me? He always tells me that no boy or friend is worth to cry, that they aren't worth for my love and my friendship because if they just leave me by myself for somebody else, for some place 'better', then they aren't as good of a friend as I thought.

And I believe in his words with my whole heart. Something like this happened to me last year (yet it was a simple friendship, no love and stuff) and I had several small breakdowns because of 'our break-up' that left me with no friends by my side but my father made it all better with his understanding. My mother simply made fun of that girl because that's the way she makes me feel better. Somewhat cruel but still funny and 'relief-bringing'.

Thank you for taking your time to read and review. I hope we can talk more in the future via stories.

Well. Yeah. My name's Sela and I will be your reviewer for...well, I'd say today but you'll probably get other reviewers so--I'll be your reviewer for 12:30 this Saturday afternoon. There, how's that? Better? Good.

I liked the idea because, well, I think a lot of us girls have had this experience--knowing a guy, really liking him, and then losing him in some painful way. Even though I have never and will never like Evanescence, it did fit the piece, so I won't complain about that. Alas, all compliments must end, so allow me to get on to my critique. Now, I don't like being picky, so although there were definitely some grammatical mistakes, I'll stick with the big stuff and with a few more reviews and a read-over, you should be fine.

Now, looking back at those memories, I realize I miss you so much. You changed, a fact that I really want to deny. I watched you change into a stranger, a cold-faced, irresponsible stranger who never returns my gaze. You are so close to me physically, but you are so far away mentally and emotionally. Disdaining your emotions and keeping especially distant from me.

See the things in bold? Those are the ones that bothered me. First off, "cold-faced"? Really awkward phrasing. Try something a little more relatable, like, "a blank-eyed, irresponsible stranger..." etc. As a rule, it's a good idea to try and use imagery people can understand, metaphors and analogies that actually make sense. "Cold-faced" just sounds really weird and it throws off the general narrative. Next, it seems recently people have taken to being extremely descriptive in a very, I don't know, oddly psychological way--"You are so close to me physically, but you are so far away mentally and emotionally." Way too precise, that there. Ever read Shakespeare? Or really any good prose? The idea is to be a little more poetic, a little more ethereal, almost, and not just to say things exactly the way they are. Here's an example: "We're so close, and yet when I look at you, look into your eyes, you seem so horribly far away." It's a bit more...real, I don't know. The whole idea of using words like "mentally" and "emotionally" debases stories in general. Do you see Tolkien describing Aragorn's psychological problems in psychiatric babble? No, because that would bore everyone to death and subtract from the whole fantastical-ness of it. So try to be a bit more poetic, yeah? Read some Lovecraft or Wordsworth and maybe you'll see what I mean. Lastly, the bit I bolded at the end was just to point out that "Disdaining your emotions and keeping especially distant from me" is a fragment and repetition. You just told us that, we don't need it shoved down our throats, thanks.

It hurts, seeing you every day from afar, seeing you talking with different people, laughing with your head thrown back, making crazy gestures with your hands. It pains me to see I’m not the one you are speaking to, the one you are laughing with.

To take a quick break from criticism, I have to say I really liked the way you did this. It's a lot more realistic, a lot less robotic, and it really makes sense to me 'cause I know--well, knew a guy like that. And I always hated seeing him around, enjoying himself but not with me. So good job! It was like I was reading my own thoughts from back then, almost.

we shared laughter, tears, anger, joy, sadness, hatred, we experienced them all, all, together.

Nope. Nope nope nope. The repetition of "all", and the awkward placing of commas, really shook me out of the story, and it was extremely clunky. Instead, let's go with something like, "...we experienced them together, every one." Or something like that.

I felt a small crack fissure my heart

Again: what? "Fissure" isn't a verb, not by any stretch, so this doesn't even make grammatical sense. Try, "I could feel my heart aching" or something that makes a bit more sense.

Remembering you like that, even though my memories leave scars all over my soul (if such a thing really exists),

Really didn't like this. The melodrama nearly choked me when I first read it, and I'm usually pretty melodramatic myself so that's saying something. Is this really the time to be questioning your soullessness? It's one guy, girl! And if he was half as adorable as mine, I can understand being really upset, but this whole outburst just seems overdone. Maybe cut that out? Also, try to avoid parentheses in creative writing--they're ugly and don't fit well.

I chased away the nightmares, the silent screams that you had inside you yet that I saw as clear as a cloudless sky, the silly bugs that you were so afraid of, the bullies who tried to harm you, it was me, IT WAS ALL ME!

Never use CAPs in really any kind of writing, formal or otherwise. Not only is it ugly, but here it would be much better illustrated by italics, so do that instead, please. Also, "yet I saw as clear as a cloudless sky" is stuck in there rather haphazardly. I'd suggest taking it out--it doesn't much help the story and I just don't like it on principle.

with my white-horsed prince

Sounds like your calling your prince a white horse. Change it.

But the reality was cruel and always slapped me in the face harshly, saying ‘Don’t be stupid, kid! The man in shiny armor is always a loser wrapped in silver foil, he will break your heart like a twig! Stop being a love-sick idiot and be realistic!’ but hey, can’t a person imagine and dream? Can’t somebody just want to escape from the cold and unpleasant reality of life for a few glorious minutes, lost in unreal, impossible dreams that many mortals wish could happen?

Is there another way to slap someone in the face? Really? Cut it out, please. The "can't a person..." thing has always annoyed me, so why not try something less cliche, like, "...why can't I dream? Why can't I pretend, if only for a little while?" Lastly, "mortals"? We're all mortals, no need to specify that. Put something else, like "people" or "of us" or something like that.

I were in the horrendous world that was portrayed in American McGee’s Alice, where our no-longer-innocent character Alice was a cold and completely insane girl of fifteen who hid far more vulnerable feelings deep in her soul, buried six-feet-under her heart.

"American McGee's Alice" interrupts the flow. You're being too precise again, try something like, "...as if I were in some horrendous nightmare-land, lost and afraid, and the sun setting, all wrong, in the east." Not that, but something much less precise. And the 'six-feet-under her heart' makes virtually no sense and it'd be better if you just changed it into something less awkward.

I feel like laughing while crying, I feel like apologizing while beating somebody to the point of cold death

Is there another kind of death where the corpses or warm? Get rid of the "cold" bit, please.

I’m so alone, in my large family crowded around the couch, I’m basically alone in a crowd, nobody pressures me to utter even the shortest word, it seems like nobody would notice or care if I added my two-cents into the conversation.

Yeah, all this annoyed me. Get rid of the 'basically', it throws the reader off and is utterly useless to the sentence. The rest is an overload of whiny ranting. You'd probably be better off if you changed the whole thing, honestly.

Then everything silently (in physical sense), yet mentally loudly, crashes down upon my head; you stole away my childhood by only being yourself, you filled every corner of my mental memory archive with your presence, with your fragrance and light, you stole away my very heart and soul withby just being you, withby just being so imperfect and so lovable in my eyes. I know I should probably hate you, but I can’t because…I don’t know, I guess I’m hopelessly hopeful for that you'll to see me, recognize my love for you.

True, but again with the parentheses and the over-describing. This is a story, not a deposition! Please, get rid of the bold bits, we don't care about physically and mentally, we want the actual story, without the weird bits that make very little sense. The end I liked, so keep it, but change the bit like I showed you, if you want it to make sense.

Somebody wasn't lying when they said love is the slowest form of suicide,. They are were right, it kills a person, and yet also makes them live. It kills hope and gives birth to it, it is so absurd and stupid, merely a hormonal hurricane, and yet it’s also a drug that everybody is hopelessly addicted to, a universal drug that nobody is able to give up.

Ridiculous run-on. Try reading out loud or reading over your work before you submit it, so we, the reviewers, aren't subjected to this. And don't pile so many words on, if you can't help it. Less is often more, Miss Malice.

I realize that, as I sort out all this, I am all alone. I have no friends to talk to (I’m so shy, and I get so nervous around people, the cat gets my tongue), I have no family members who worry about me (although it doesn’t surprise me, as I have two older siblings my parents always fuss over, and as said my siblings are quite the slackers and troublemakers while I am a quiet yet studious, trouble-free kid), you were always with me but now with what distance.

Whiny again. Obviously her parents care about her, and if she doesn't see it, or, heck, even if they don't -- which happens a lot less often than you might think -- we don't need to hear the whole litany. You tell a lot, and you need to learn to show these things, even in a monologue like this. If you can, practice showing things, showing us how her mother ignores her or how her father only pays attention to her older sibs. Just telling the reader is boring and doesn't drive the point home the same way.

reality really bites people in the rear so harshly and quickly. When you realize it, the pain shoots through your body so fast and sharp. And that’s what just happened to me, and I smile behind a hand once again; the truth has never been a sweeter poison.

"Reality bites people in the rear"? This sounds awfully childish, and since I'm pretty sure this is about a high-schooler, I suggest you change it to something like, "Reality is so cruel sometimes" or "People can get so screwed up by reality". Just not the 'rear' thing. The idea of truth being poison, well, that's a bit more poetic, and I like it, even though it's a bit cliche. Any poetic language, in your case, would be good, I think.

Anyways, this said a lot of things I used to think, and I definitely connected with your MC. It was a very rough draft, but please keep fine-tuning it--I can't wait to see it when it's finished, or even just improved. It was realistic, albeit occasionally painfully so, and I'm glad you had the courage to put it out there, whether or not this has been your experience or was just something you thought up. If it did happen to you, let me just say, other, better guys come along--this I know for a fact.

Keep writing!

-SELA

Thank you for your constructive criticism, I really appreciate that.

Well, first of all, English is not my mother language so I can't exactly write down the words I imagined in Turkish as English which causes everything I write sound very awkward. Please note this to one side, just in case.

I wrote this piece for my English teacher, who just FORCED me into it so there was also anger that made me want to write down the story's main character as whiny and overreactive and all that kind of stuff. Because when I get forced to do something I really didn't want to, I get very whiny and angry (maybe even angsty, oh how stupid on my part) and it reflects to my job in every worst way.

I'm an amateur writer, I started only a year ago but because of school, I don't get to write much. I only practice writing stories through an American friend of mine on the internet, writing fanfiction stories and creating characters in the form of dialogues.

I never experienced love myself but my parents always tell me that I don't have to experience things necessarily in order to write about them. But it doesn't mean I can write it well and realistic.

Okay, also, this isn't the very original story I wrote actually. This one got edited and grammar-checked by an American teacher at my school, although we didn't do much as I actually hoped. Some of the words got replaced by her and she added and changed my sentences as well. "Fissure" got added by her and even though I said to her that it didn't make sense, she refused to change it. Then I forgot to change it back. Someone should punch me for that kind of things. And I should have uploaded my original version, the one with grammar mistakes and sense. Oh well. I think I will leave it this way. Or delete it completely, I will think of it later.

The narrator is indeed whiny and blind and it's the fruit of my anger, my own whining at the moment of writing. In real life, I couldn't be careless about romance and relationships, I think relationships are messy even. Too much stress, arguments and all kinds of those things. (Excuse me for my lack of proper vocabulary.)

Again, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR HELP! I hope to hear more from you.

~Labyrinth

I'm in relatively the same situation..just I'm not romatically interested in the guy, he's my best friend.
I would avoid adding in personal anecdotes like this:
I realize that, as I sort out all this, I am all alone. I have no friends to talk to (I’m so shy, and I get so nervous around people, the cat gets my tongue), I have no family members who worry about me (although it doesn’t surprise me, as I have two older siblings my parents always fuss over, and as said siblings are quite the slackers and troublemakers while I am a quiet yet studious, trouble-free kid),

It seems a tad desperate, and really doesn't fit in the scheme of the narrative. Otherwise it's really good..I would go more in depth with it thought, perhaps flesh out what the boy is thinking and feeling during these situations, and also more stories about your interactions. Get more personal..its makes for deep and gritty writing..usually a good approach. Let your emotions guide you. This has the potential to be really gritty and in your face writing..I'm sure alot of people can relate..

Thank you for taking your time to read and review, my friend.

I never experienced love myself so I very rarely write about romance, I prefer either darkness or simply funniness. Or just the simple life of a teen. (Which people seem to find uninteresting but oh well, it doesn't stop me from writing about it.)

Like I wrote on the comment above you, I was very angry/sad/whiny/even angsty while writing this (cheesy) story so my narrator is indeed whiny/blind/b****y/desperate and all that kind of negative stuff. I normally don't write about these kind of things (romance, basically because of my view into love and relationships -MESSY!-) but the inspiration for this hit me and didn't leave me alone for a long time before I got frustrated and wrote it down furiously. Anyway, I'm hoping to upload some stories where just crack and funniness or at least, my own thoughts about the world, religion, economics, history etc. in the form of a story or a dialogue or a train of thoughts.

Again, thank you for telling me your thoughts. Hope to hear more from you.

~Labyrinth