Oh my god! that was the best Romance story ever written on YWS! please write more!
And if you do, please PM me to tell me that its on here!
thanks!
Smexay
Hi all!
It's been forever, has it not? I feel awful for not putting aside some YWS time. I got guilty about putting this on SheezyArt before here, so it's up now. And I PROMISE to do more critiquing.
Even though I suck at it.
So! Anyway. This! This was a product of one of those spontaneous "You know, I just kind of feel like writing" moments. I rather like this, actuallly. 
Yours truly,
Haley---
There wasn’t any breeze that day, which was odd, honestly; all the gloomy, heavy clouds overhead, and that charged feeling of an oncoming storm in the air, yet no wind to accompany it. The park was deserted, and dead leaves were strewn on the ground. The way the sunlight filtered through the gray mass that was the heavens made every shade of color look washed out.
And there I was on the swing.
I pushed back a little, moving through the thick air. I dug my shoes into the ground, then squinted at the sky. I loved muggy summer rains, but not when I had someone to meet. I looked back down, pulling at the disheveled hem of my jeans.
Then I heard that distinct sound of feet crunching dully on bark chips. I didn’t bother looking up.
The seat next to me squeaked under someone's weight. Head down, I looked over at his ancient navy Converse with "Love you!-- Em" scrawled on the rubber siding by my green pen. He sniffled, swaying back and forth, remaining silent, waiting. It amazed me how well he could read me, how well he knew me. It was also pathetic that he didn’t care enough to try and fix what he had helped to destroy. His swing slowed like a pendulum to a nonexistent pace.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi, Ed,” I returned flatly.
“Are you ready to--”
“You’re 43 minutes late,” I interrupted, looking at my watch. My expectant stare into his face was returned with an oblique glance that looked anxious. I looked back at the ground.
“I’m sorry. I just... forgot.”
“Again. You’ve got quite an awful memory. I mean, when you call someone, and then text them an hour before you’re going to meet, you kind of expect them to show up. But I guess that was foolish of me.” The built-up spite was coming out more heavily than I had anticipated. I didn’t care to ebb the flow.
Ed was silent, apparently afraid of prodding the snarling animal that was me. His cowardice only angered me further. Shouting sounded good, but I didn’t trust myself to keep from getting tragic.
“What can I do to make it up to you?”
“This meeting was you making it up to me.”
“I'm so sorry, Em. I swear, I really meant to be here on time.”
He reached for my hand, and I quickly gripped the chain.
“You shouldn’t swear.”
I stared out at the teeter-totter. I suddenly wanted to lean my head on his shoulder, but scolded myself for losing my resolve. Some far-off thunder rumbled.
“Are you just… not going to forgive me?”
Don’t make me out to be so heartless, I thought. If it had been anyone else I was here to meet I would have smiled, laughed it off, said, “No, no really, it’s alright.” But that grace ran out a long time ago.
I felt cheated. This relationship that was spoken of with such enthusiasm and sought after by so many of my peers was becoming more empty with each day. Each time we told each other “I love you” it was more dishonest.
I looked at him and, suddenly, I felt nauseous. This person I had been so passionate about months ago, was now someone who revealed to me the worst side of people, and my own nature. Not so long ago our togetherness was so new and exhilarating. Being held was so blissful, being listened to so precious, being understood so intimate.
Now it was a lie. We had become somewhat of an accessory to each other. I was his girlfriend, not his best friend.
When I had finally gained the courage to speak- as the look on his face was more than a little disarming- the words came very softly.
“We both know it’s over.”
He looked away and closed his eyes, his head bowing slightly. After a stretch of time, he nodded. I shut my eyes, and my stomach jolted. I listened as the form next to me stood and walked in front of me. I could feel him inches away. His hands took mine. His lips touched my forehead.
“See you later.”
I listened as he walked away, shut his car door, and drove off.
It wasn’t until several minutes later that the pain hit me. The hollowness was suddenly replaced with sorrow and remorse and guilt and loss. A sudden ache grew in my throat. I failed at choking down sobs, as my eyes overflowed down my cheeks.
I felt as though the sky, with some prophetic sympathy, should release its torrent and join me, but the heavens are surprisingly dense.
---
(Hehe. I think I actually wrote the last line before anything else.)
So, please, feel free to rip it apart, and point/laugh at my grammar.
Also, do you think the texting thing okay? And what about using "returned" as a tag?
Thanks!
Oh my god! that was the best Romance story ever written on YWS! please write more!
And if you do, please PM me to tell me that its on here!
thanks!
Smexay
yup! i like how you describe everything around the story... you're a good writer, how bout that? 
... though the story is a bit cliche(break ups), you made a whole new meaning to "how to know when you finally need to break up"... tee-hee!
keep it up!
i hope to read more interesting stories from you! 
Crits, crits, crits! You guys make me so happy.
Sureal: Yarg, me and adverbs. I need to remember the "strong verbs instead of adverbs" bit. I'll see if I can tweak that first paragraph too.
Flemzo: Thank you! I always hate the way crying gets described. There's usually too much sparkliness and such.
Time to plot!
*does the plotting jig*
I gotta say, I like reading your stuff.
I read the last sentence first, and was about to fix a "typo". Then I read the story, and realized that there was no typo. Just thought I'd let you know.
I failed at choking down sobs, as my eyes overflowed down my cheeks.
Alrighty there, Joeducktape. ^_^ Just a quick, ‘thank yah’ crit, for reviewing my piece.
There wasn’t any breeze that day, which was odd, honestly. There were gloomy, heavy clouds overhead, with that charged feeling of an oncoming storm in the air, but no wind to accompany it. The park was deserted, and dead leaves were strewn on the ground. The way the sunlight filtered through the gray mass that was the heavens made every shade of color look washed out.
I suddenly wanted to lean my head on his shoulder, but I quickly scolded myself for losing my resolve. Some far-off thunder rumbled menacingly.
I looked at him and, suddenly, I felt nauseous. This person I had been so passionate about months ago, was suddenly someone who revealed to me the worst side of people, and my own nature.
Yay! Snoinkage!
Hehe. I appreciate you critting this. I made some changes {I hope they're better 8\}. And also, thanks for your comment about the last line. It's my favorite part. XD
As promised, I am here! The story was nice to read and I enjoyed. With that said... the comments!
Joeducktape wrote:There wasn’t any breeze that day. Which was odd, honestly. The park was deserted, and with good reason. There were gloomy, heavy clouds overhead, with that charged feeling of an oncoming storm in the air, but no wind to accompany it. The way the sunlight filtered through the gray mass that was the heavens made every shade of color look washed out.
And there I was on the swing.
I pushed back a little, moving through the thick air. I dug my shoes into the ground, then squinted at the sky. Muggy summer rains were great, but not when you had someone to meet. I looked back down, pulling at the disheveled hem of my jeans, thoroughly faded from being trod upon.
Then reached my ears that distinct sound of feet crunching dully on bark chips. I didn’t bother looking up.
The seat next to me squeaked under someone's weight. Head down, I looked over at the ancient navy Converse with "Love you!-- Em" scrawled on the rubber siding by my green pen. Ed sniffled, swaying back and forth, remaining silent, waiting. It amazed me how well he could read me, how well he knew me. It was also pathetic that he didn’t care enough to try and fix what he had helped to destroy. His swing slowed like a pendulum to a nonexistent pace.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi, Ed,” I returned flatly.
“Are you ready to--”
I grabbed his wrist and pulled it to me, interrupting his question. Pulling back his sleeve I read the watch face.
“What can I do to make it up to you?” He sounded earnest.
I looked at him and, suddenly, I felt almost nauseous. This person I had been so passionate about months ago, was suddenly someone who revealed to me the worst side of people, and my own nature. Not so long ago our togetherness was so new and exhilarating. Being held was so blissful, being listened to so precious, being understood so intimate.
He looked away and closed his eyes, his head bowing slightly. After a stretch of time, he nodded. I shut my eyes, feeling nauseous. I listened as the form next to me stood and walked in front of me. I could feel him inches away. His hands took mine. His lips touched my forehead.
It wasn’t until several minutes later that the pain hit me. The hollowness was suddenly replaced with sorrow and remorse and guilt and loss. A sudden ache grew in my throat. I failed at choking down sobs, as my eyes overflowed down my cheeks.
I felt as though the sky, with some prophetic sympathy, should release its torrent and join me, but the heavens are surprisingly dense.
Oh, wow. I really like this. There's a heavy sense of... er... place in this piece, for lack of a better word. The story and the setting are kind of one and the same, until the end... a really neat way to tell a story. I like it.
I don't really have much to nitpick about here. (Holy cow, mark it on the calendar!)
The park was deserted, and with good reason.
inching pace
I felt as though the sky, with some prophetic sympathy, should release its torrent and join me, but the heavens are surprisingly dense.
it's interesting. Maybe you sould write a sequel to let the readers know if she ggoing to me alone or she is going to find another person.
Phwoar, another Ouran fanatic?
Yes, the nineteenth century was rather an alarming place. o_o Anyway, you're welcome!
The end of your jeans is a hem, I think. That's the bottom seam of pretty much everything worn below your waist.
- I was pretty shocked when Protagonist (we'll call her Fraulein P, for erm...not short), knew the gender of the person without looking up. We need some recognition clues before you drop the bomb about he's late- sort of confirming our suspiscions.
- Don't be afraid of using strange punctuation in dialogue. I like the tip, "Dialogue is like real life, only better."
A comma's missing, and when people are apologetic, they [fillin the blank]. How could you reflect that? ^_~
*celebratory disco inferno* Joe!
How's it been, mate?
Anyway, your writing is beautiful, I must say- everything's neat and orderly and stylistic, and you streak with your dialogue effectively (that is, going tagless). It's gorgeous.
More impressively, you did an angsty character, and I didn't hate her. ^_^ Doesn't sound like a rave, exactly, but believe me- it is, in my book.
A few quick things:
- Here's the joy of reading books written by people with crazy-large vocabularies- you know the proper terms for things. Like, instead of 'dead corn', it's "fallow", and instead of "naggingly sentimental, with possibly macabre origins", it's "maudlin".
The end of your jeans is a hem, I think. That's the bottom seam of pretty much everything worn below your waist.
- I was pretty shocked when Protagonist (we'll call her Fraulein P, for erm...not short), knew the gender of the person without looking up. We need some recognition clues before you drop the bomb about he's late- sort of confirming our suspiscions.
- Don't be afraid of using strange punctuation in dialogue. I like the tip, "Dialogue is like real life, only better."
So! Don't think that everything has to be stylized and perfect; people stutter and ramble sometimes. Here's a section I thought needed some TLC:
“I swear I really meant to be here on time.”
“You shouldn’t swear.”
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