I sit in my dress in my dry bathtub. It’s 4 AM, and no, I am not drunk. Just mildly heartbroken. Mildly, because when the time came, when the spotlight turned on and blinded me, I did not raise my hand to shield my eyes. I burned back brighter than I thought I could.
He had an L-shaped couch, and I snuggled on one end while he lay on the other,
our heads almost touching. I can’t say exactly when, but all at once, his words
turned unkind. I was jerked out of my gentle floating into stark reality.
Listening, looking at this person I did not recognize, yet knew so well. The
shapes were too harsh, the room was too yellow-grey, reality was so unsightly
and his words so unkind. He was talking about another girl.
“What are you doing here then, at 3 AM with a stranger girl?”
“Strange would be an understatement.”
But friend, did you not tell me things one only shares from a planet of pain?
Did you use your own pain as leverage, you showed me drawings and looked at me
with time-travel eyes, did you take me to a time that didn’t matter, then?
Perhaps I say things you’re not used to hearing, you ask me,
“Do you think I’m playing right now?”
And I catch calculation in your eyes, you mathematician-logician. Hey, remember
when we lay on the snow in someone else’s yard and looked at the thin tree
branches, charcoal-like against blue-night sky? But all I say is,
“Yes. Yes, you are playing me now.”
Funny, you don’t deny it. We danced in your goddamn kitchen barefoot. I wish I
could take that dance back. And all the laughs and jokes, and the way you
looked at me once, like we’ve been friends for so long you felt lazy to say it,
“You know what makes me laugh.”
I called you a douchebag once, though stronger words were hot on my tongue. You
do not get to see how much this moved me, how every laugh we shared rings clear
in the back of my mind.
I’ve never seen you so detached, so cold, so unlike your warm autumn colors, as
when you were talking about her. Does she know?
“If I don’t see her for the next few weeks, I won’t care.”
Does she know that? I close my eyes and I imagine how she has her morning
coffee, picks out her outfit and styles her hair, how she applies this one new
lipstick she got – before a date with you. I imagine her, a full and complete
person, someone with a million thoughts per day, friends she shops with, exams
she stressed about, multiple meals she cooks for herself, family she spends her
holidays with, red-blooded human being hung up on someone who-
“She asked if I was interested, yeah I’m interested. In only seeing her twice a
week.”
Who are you?
I was so careful, each look, each word,
each movement – I watched to make sure, how could two people be so similar. Now
I know the devil is not in the detail.
The devil is in the 3AM talks, bleeding that girl dry.
Why does she put up with this?
Did you expect me as well? Just to lay down and listen, and feel second best,
and be fine with crumbs twice a week?
Remember when we tried to walk on the icy curb, and I couldn’t see your face, but
you said you’re happy you met me, that your university experience didn’t turn
out the way you thought it would, that you kind of gave up by your last
semester, and then you met me and?
I didn’t say it back then, I thought you knew, but I felt that way as well. My heart
was so full in that moment.
“I just want you to give as much damn about me as I give a damn about you.”
And all you could say from your piece of couch was,
“Does that mean you give a damn about me?”
You promised you would serenade me, did you at least serenade her? I’d feel bad
for you and for her, but I feel so foolish and angry, I can only handle my own
sadness.
I felt my eyelids grow heavy. I was in my dress in my dry bathtub. At 4AM. You
made me cry.
Is that just lint you’ll brush off your shoulder? In what parking lot, late at
night, will you breakdown?
Remember when I held you and said it’s okay to let go. I meant it, you could’ve
done it, I would’ve looked straight at the sun of your past, I wouldn’t have
flinched. But as if burned you pulled away and said, “I can’t. I can’t let go.”
“I’ll get over this.”
Did you? How fast? How deep did I dip my paw in your pot of honey? Have I
perturbed your hibernation, little bear ?
I remember when we linked our arms and you said it felt better than holding
hands. You know, that one still gets to me.
I know you were scared and confused, but when you said we were only just ever
friends, I wished I never met you.
“Don’t look at me with those eyes, or I will cry.”
I wish you did, maybe it would be easier for me to forgive you. Instead you
threw open your balcony door, eager to see my taxi come take me away, avert my
gaze from your face. Restless, you started washing your clean kitchen. Were you
trying to scrub my words off your skin?
I know I crossed lines, I know I should’ve stayed silent. Should’ve just left.
When I called you out, did you despise me then, even a little bit? Good.
Remember when we ran towards the moonlit playground and acted like we were five
and as I was getting up from the slide you were a bit too eager to help me up?
The devil is not in the detail, of course. But it touched my heart with a hand
of innocence and cinema, and I cannot forgive you for-
“Did you think this was anything but friendship?”
You ate honey off my spoon, though. Caved in so easily to all my caprices, kept
prying about my previous romance.
“I’m not going to serenade you. You know for ten things I tell you, you only
tell me one. Don’t pretend like you don’t know you do this to me.”
I thought you were declaring your weakness to me, I was so pleased, it made me
think you’re weak in your need for me. I was standing, looking down at you
lounging on your couch. Watching you watching me. I’ll remember that silence.
Friends don’t share those silences.
I did not get a chance to start falling in love, of course. I was too careful, like
you accused me of many times. My mistake was thinking you saw me the way I saw
you. Straight through and thorough; but while I was looking in a mirror, you
were staring into abyss.
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125,008 Literary Works • 672,830 Reviews
I hate to be mean, I realy do. But it is for editing purposes. This story just didn't grab me. I found myself constantly wondering when it was goin to end. The writing is great though. The storyline...not so much. I hate to be cruel but ugh I feel bad. In my opinion, which you prbably should disregard, the nly things that intereste dme were the first and last paragraphs. The dialouge was somewhat..boring. Sorry :/
Hi there!
Okay, I have two nitpicks for you and then some general notes. In the opening of the story, you start off with "he" and then switch to "you." I think "you" is probably more powerful in this particular case, so just make sure you go back to the beginning and change it to match the rest of the story.
The second is about a single word, which I would normally not even comment on. But in this case it really stood out to me in an unpleasant way, so here I am. "Douchebag" doesn't fit the rest of the language, which is generally poetic. I don't know if there's a better word you could pick that's still about the same level of sweariness - as opposed to the "stronger words" mentioned a moment later - or if you used it because this is based on something that really happened, but for the purposes of the story I think a different word would suit things better.
I like the use of devices like this:
Where you break off narration with dialogue that answers the question or ends the sentence.
The last line is just gorgeous.
This really spoke to me, the basic premise, but I agree with Silloria that it would help to dramatize more of this. I like the use of memories like this, which I felt were some of the strongest points in the story.
Unlike Silloria, I don't think you necessarily need to dramatize past events, as these bits and pieces cobble together a scrapbook page of the relationship between the narrator and the subject as she understood it. However, there were some spots where the narrator mentions conversations that were had where I felt like I was missing out by being told about the conversation, rather than seeing more of it play out.
We saw bits and pieces of this one throughout the story, but I wasn't sure what was going on at first, because I didn't catch the start of the conversation.
Does she know...what? How uncaring he is, or was there something he said to which the narrator's response is "Does she know that?"
Early on, I was confused about what the nature of the relationship between the narrator and the subject was. Normally this would be a problem, but considering their relationship actually was somewhat ambiguous, I think this actually drives the point home. The exception being the aforementioned bit where the conversation starts off narrated rather than dramatized, so I wasn't sure what unkind words there were, or if he just mentioned another girl out of the blue to his girlfriend or friend or whatever, or if he admitted to cheating on the narrator, or what. You can also see in that part what I first mentioned, about the use of "he" where later on you use "you."
Feel free to PM me if you have any questions!
This touched me deeply, but I'm afraid I'll still have to be critical of some sections in this piece. To me, the opening felt clumsy. I feel like it wasn't necessary to clarify that the MC is NOT drunk, and I think it actually takes away from the piece to explain. I feel like perhaps you break up things more than necessary, though this could merely be a stylistic choice. If so, my apologies.
I feel like it would be more impactful if you're more descriptive of the past events as you go further into the story. It makes it more emotional and more touching to the reader. It makes it feel more desperate.
The ending left me a little... empty. I feel like if you swap the last two paragraphs, this will likely be fixed. Ending with the name of the story hits harder, in my opinion.
Keep writing!
Hello! herbgirl here for a review!
To begin, i'd like to start by saying i like your writing style. You use some good imagery when describing the character's emotions, but also do a good job of showing not telling. For example, opening with your character sitting fully clothed in a dry bathtub gave your audience a very clear picture of how your character was feeling. It was very well done. i also really liked the ending, the closing paragraph used language in a very impactful way which i enjoyed. However, although i did like these such details, i do have some suggestions.
Most importantly, i think i'd like to see more background on your characters, because as your story went on, i grew confused. What i got from the story was that your main character felt very close to a man who turned out to be extremely unkind, especially to a girlfriend the main character had thought the man loved. However, the girlfriend was introduced about halfway through the story, which led me to believe at first that the main character was the man's girlfriend. What i found especially confusing was the lack of background regarding the characters. How do they know each other? What did the main character assume the man was like? Did she really love him? What was the broken relationship the man had previously had? You work in a few little details throughout the story which help answer some questions, but it was slow going, and i was generally confused. i suggest making this story more linear, starting with the beginning of their relationship, how they met, and then their experiences together up until the current point where the character is in the tub. You could incorporate some of the flashbacks you already have throughout, because they do provide some good depth to the story.
My other suggestion is that you read through your piece again, carefully, and keep an eye out for mistakes. As i was reading it seemed you periodically left words out, which could easily be avoided by doing another read over. The other small editing suggestion i have is that whenever you say "4 AM" you change it to "four AM", because the general writing consensus is that you type out fully any number below ten in formal writing.
Anyways, sorry if that seemed at all harsh! You have a very nice writing style, but i think this piece could still use some polishing, which could be achieved by a little editing. Good luck, and have fun!
herbgirl