any input is very appreciated !! 
It was the most wonderfully heartbreaking thing.
He held my hand.
I took it gracefully, politely, but most of all, insincerely. I was screaming inside, screaming every single word I wanted to say. Each one was built up perfectly within me, and yet my expression remained indifferent. Not a single word could pass my lips.
"Grace," he said with no personal attachment, as though the word was insignificant.
Suddenly I was crying.
This triggered my overwhelming thoughts to become real words. However, they were quiet words. He continued to overpower them with his own words, and half-hearted tone.
"I can't give you what you deserve."
or was it, I won't give you what you deserve?
At that, the quiet words grew louder and louder, until it was a battle cry. His hand fled free from mine, free as he now was. He was free and I was utterly broken.
I hated him. He knew it. I spoke vindictively, harsh and as cold as the February air that surrounded Central Park.
"There's something romantic about snowfall" I remembered saying to Stephen, as we walked through Central Park, that previous winter.
"It's beautiful, and calming. Despite the cold, snowfall reminds me of warmth" I added.
He laughed wholesomely, pressing his lips against the rim of the mug he held gently.
Gently. I remembered.
Kind of how he used to hold me.
I remember the fragility of his words when he turned to me and said
"Grace," as though enveloped in that one word was so much emotion, and promise. He continued:
"You've said the same thing about the sunshine in the summertime, flowers in the spring, and the leaves in the fall."
I buried my head in his sweater, blushing furiously.
It was true, many seasons had certainly passed. Two years of walking through Central Park every Sunday morning, talking about everything that surrounded us.
"I love you."
Words had never sounded so sweet.
I wanted to write those words down, and show him. Because come today I wasn't sure he remembered saying them. Sometimes those words, that day feels like nothing more than a figment of my imagination.
Standing there beneath his shadow today, I wish it were, I now realize how meaningless it all was.
"I love her, Grace, she makes me happy"
I then knew instantly why I had recalled that one frosty February morning to vividly: it was the last moment that I could remember feeling any sort of happiness when we were together.
"Goodbye Stephen, I'll always love you," I almost cried.
But instead:
"Goodbye, Stephen" Calmly, and filled with composure, I dried my tears.
I lifted myself from the bench. I noted the surroundings: Beaming sunshine, bare trees, just how I remembered it.
I left every ounce of hope for us to die in Central Park.
That following Sunday, and every other Sunday after, I walk through Central Park alone. I hope that someday I find Stephen doing the same. But I never do.
I exit and walk past the coffee shop where she works, sometimes I even go inside and wonder if she knows who I am. When I do, I recall every precious Sunday morning Stephen and I would spend together. I recall bitterly when he would meet me, always holding that mug of coffee so gently in his hands.
How could I have been so blind?
I suddenly saw wintertime in a whole new perspective, a warm arrival never left so cold.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
125,018 Literary Works • 672,856 Reviews
Hello there, Enchanted! I hope your holidays are going swell ('tis Christmas Eve, after all).
Nitpicks
Corrections (or add-ins/any types of changes) will be in red.
There needed to be a comma after 'suddenly.'
Capitalize at the beginning of sentences.
Here, you kind of lost me, because you switched to a flashback without a warning. Also, the comma after Stephen and the comma after Central Park is not needed.
This is very nitpick-y of me, but this can all be on one line. So: "Gently, I remembered. Kind of how he used to hold me." And the phrase "kind of" bothers me slightly. I think saying "almost how" or "slightly like how" would suffice and sound much better, almost more 'fluid' with the sentence.
Now, I rearranged the paragraphing a bit here, as the way you had it before was odd to the eye. Also, I want to point out 'fragility.' This word stood out to me, and just did not seem to fit with this girl's narrative voice, so I would suggest replacing it with "the softness of his words" or "the kidness of his words."
You had a comma after "were" when it should have been a period.
You forgot to add some punctuation inside the dialogue.
The added "and" makes the sentence have a better flow, methinks.
Overall
Now, there are a few issues I had with this short story. The first of these issues is that your story is merely a visual displeasure to read. This is due to the very odd paragraph - most of your paragraphs are one or two lines, and that is all. Paragraphs generally last more than three lines, as one/two lines do not allow for much description of scenery, characters, or antics. And some of your separate paragraphs deal with the same 'issue,' so they can easily be combined to make a decent-length paragraph.
Another issue I had with this story is the emotion. For some reason, I found myself not sympathizing or pitying your main character, even though her (what seems like) long-time beau just dumped her for this mysterious other girl. Perhaps because you seemed to just state her pain, and not really express it in her actions. Honestly, I was surprised that in the end she remained calmed and collected because it just did not seem fitting with her personality. She seemed like the kind of girl who was sweet, head-over-heels in love, a romantic - all the "snowflakes are warm" mush lead me to this, I believe. So, yes, her reaction was also a bit out-of-character.
Also, at the end of the story I felt I barely knew your characters. You never mention what he looks like, or even his name. For goodness sakes, we never even find out what the main character's name is, and she's the one narrarating the story to us! Also, you have a wonderful chance here to describe what it's like as he's breaking her heart in Central Park. You can say something like, "The snowflakes now fell in little flurries, and she had been standing outside, so still in her heartbreak for so long that a messy pile had now gathered on top of her sleek, black winter boots." See how that adds to the scene and gives the reader a clearer picture in the mind?
However, I also was displeased how 'she' is so slightly taken. I mean, honestly - he just declared his love for another woman, and you do not even spend the time to describe this woman. Is she a friend of your main characters? Just give us some more detail, because right now you have left us almost completely in the dark. Overall, however, this was a nice read and I liked the general plot (how Central Park was their place and all). I hope this review helps.
Happy Holidays!
- Mizz
Thank you so much! your suggestions have helped me when going over it
I appreciate it.
to clear up confusion, in the beginning she is obviously being broken up with. it's meant to be a tad confusing, because at the end everything in a loop of events should tie together.
then Grace is thinking back, to show how much their relationship has changed.
In the flashback she mentions how Stephen is drinking coffee, and then the girl mentioned in the end works at a coffee shop, implying that Stephen met this other girl at the coffee shop, and would go there every Sunday morning before he would go meet Grace at the park, and over time he fell in love with this "coffee shop girl" and that is why he breaks up with Grace.
but again, thank youuu!
Good job on this. Your only real problems were grammatical and punctuation. Other than that, I really like the simplicity of this. If you go over this and review it, maybe change some things, it seems like it'll be great.
You know, this I really enjoyed... despite the pain expressed in the story.
Honestly, I was confused during parts... like, I dunno... I just didn't really understand what was going on in the middle, but then I got that it was a flash back, I can't tell you how I would improve it... Well, and at the end... who is this other girl? I think this could be a really acceptional piece, but I don't know if I was being distracted by music playing in the background or what, but... something about this story was, just in general confusing.
Still, it was powerful.
I liked this... maybe instead of saying inch say ounce? I'm not sure how you measure hope, but I would guess in volume... and, also, I would probably have worded it, "I left every ounce of hope for us to die in Central Park" or something more like that. Your desicion though...
Well, it should be Sunday, with a capitol S... but I was going to say, instead of saying this maybe put it, "The following Sunday, and every Sunday following it," because I don't think that's a really good place to use the term "everyone..." Everyone usually refers to people doesn't it?
Erm, there were other things but I forget... overall, I really liked this, and the title was great (although, it should also be capatalized
--
TabbyGirl