Confessions of a lover

I CONSIDER THE WORK TO BE UNFINISHED AND AM COUNTING ON YOUR HELP AND GUIDANCE TO FINISH IT.

I task myself with an attempt to fully express current state of my mind and emotions that do plague me presently and did for some time now, in their purest form, to have them described in great detail and written as they are, for eternity. I must procced hastily because with the restless flow of time they might dwindle and, as a result, disappear forever in my passive consciousness or stay as a vague outline of feelings once felt. Time is the greatest devourer, but scripture has always been its greatest rival.

I agree that the world has no need of young and hopeless romantics such as I, although one can argue that thoughts of a fragile person, who's quite possibly at the lowest point of his life, are important; no matter with what kind of indifference or even ridiculousness society might perceive them.

Effects of romantic love are similar to those of a drug. It can delude even the sanest of individuals by narrowing their minds to such a degree that it is no longer free, but dependent on a person, who’s views might change as often as wind changes direction. Imagine a person dependent on a drug, a drug which gave him everything he ignorantly believed he was deprived of, and then, after reconciling with the fact that it was going to be part of his life, out of the blue, everything goes awry, and he no longer has access to it for reasons he can only guess.

That is the state I find myself in. It is funny, how I am able to objectively judge the situation, yet act against all the logic and still feel too much within.

Your indecisiveness, my love, of which I feel a victim, amazes me. For how can a love so redoubtable disappear overnight? One might take me as a fool for adorning what we shared with such an epithet, but at that time our love was unmistakable and even now, after the fact she left me, I do not doubt it.

What was unthinkable days ago, is the reality today. You, whom I loved so dearly, would no longer accept my love and change beyond recognition. People change, it’s true and to deny it is a folly. They change, but it’s only apparent when they promise not to.

I remember clearly that magical night, how we stood by the brick wall, filled each other with passionate kisses, how your tender face and eyes full of love ensnared me. Us, two young lovers, believing that love never dies, held each other and vowed our dreams together… Ah! Spectacle for the gods.

Just a mere week after, I woke up to find your character deeply altered. Your outward aspect was still the same, of course, the change was strictly on the inside. Your attitude towards life reversed from the virtuous to the indifferent. You preferred to pass your days in seclusion without considering the effect it might have had on me. Clearly the ever mysterious reason for you acting so, was more important to you than our love.

Every day I woke up with fear of losing her. Every night, after closing my eyes, visions of those sacred days we shared painted themselves before me and the idea that it was going to be my past scared me. I could never point where exactly but an aching pain from deep within never kept me at peace. This insecurity oppressed my mind and made me unable to follow the daily rhythm of life.

The last time we saw each other, it was beyond question that the flame of love we once had has finally died. She, whom I always addressed as ‘my happiness’, appeared atypically coldhearted and explained with a formal speech that my love has become but a burden to you, from which you wanted to liberate.

The misery I felt after these words pierced my heart, is inexplicable in words. As if every color of the world had turned gray. I could not come up with a response, I tried to conceal countless of emotions I felt at the same time, none of which was anger or any other form of antipathy, with an emotionless look. My right foot started shaking nervously, I clenched fists and closed my eyes not to let her see my tears. ‘yes’, I muttered finally, ‘you can go’. ‘If I claim to love her’, I thought, ‘I should let her go, it is her happiness I should worry about, not mine’.

She stood up and looked me directly in the eyes, saying ‘thank you’. I knew, it was possibly the last time I could looked into her hazel eyes. I stood up without muttering a word. While she was still within my view, I felt nothing. It was only after we turned to go our separate ways, that I felt pain hit me like a freight train. I could barely drag my feet. I was empty inside without knowing what to feel.

Then, as if some celestial force filled me with power, I found the courage to look back, see her go and said aloud. ‘Hope we’ll meet again someday!’ She stopped as a gesture she understood the words well, and then kept walking again without ever looking back. I cannot possibly know what she felt that moment, but I feel, that whatever it was, there was some regret in it.

Your leaving me made me realize how lonely I am now and how lonely I have been before meeting you.

As I have mentioned above, this emotional wound will heal with time, although I don’t know when that time will be, for I am sure your memory is to haunt me for very long. Every time I look at the letters we wrote or come strolling past the parks we used to walk in, I wish I’ve been somebody else instead.

The other, more efficient way to abate your presence in my life, is to drastically change my character and feelings towards you. To pretend that I just do not care, to act as if you were nothing but a mere drop of water in an ocean that is my life, to repeat constantly, ‘I do not need those, who do not need me’, until the realization comes. This is what my friend told me, ‘only look forward’ he said, ‘never back’.

I thanked him for his suggestion, but did not take it close to heart, for he acted out of sheer courtesy and good will; saying what he was supposed to without fathoming what I truly feel. His, is the way of the weak and pretentious. Why should I deliberately change my own emotions, what good would it do, to lie to myself.

Women will come and go, I understand that, but is it enough of an argument to forget you? Can or do I even want to forget you? Would not it be objectively better for my maturing into a stronger individual to have your image painted forever in my mind as a symbol of my childlike naiveté for shattering my illusions of love? But is not that also a deliberate change of emotions, although in a slightly different, a more productive direction than having to wait until some other girl takes my pain away?

When all kind of memories about you come flooding my head, I resist the temptation not to get carried away. But even the bleakest of them, with the passing of time, shall transform into the pleasant reminders of days gone by. And it is for these memories, I am certain in saying that loving you is one thing I will never regret.

Might I be dreaming? Where is the guarantee that all these memories won’t make me realize how stupid I have been in future and make me feel embarrassed?

I can’t help but question myself, was our love true? Was it but a senseless passion of young, blossoming souls that lacked the maturity not to get carried away by emotions. I consider your decision to abruptly end our relationship as immature as our relationship itself.

Was I selfish? Was it you leaving me that scared me or was it just that I was afraid of change? That is in the fear of losing you, deep inside I cared for myself, it was fear of messing up my happy home.

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Points: 44360
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Thu Oct 20, 2016 1:56 pm

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Sins wrote a review...

Hey there, I see this has been in the green room for a while, so I figured I'd bring it out of there for you I'll hopefully be able to help you in finishing this too!

So. Unlike Sacredlege, I'm a bit of a softy with this stuff, so you'll probably get a lot more gushing from this review. On top of that, this piece also resonated with me quite a lot due to recent personal stuff, so that definitely helped me connect with what you've got going here. On the whole, I really enjoyed this. Some of your imagery was lovely, and I'm a huge fan of writing styles such as yours, primarily due to the fact my writing is as unpoetic as writing can get. I just can't write like this, and so I hold much jealousy right now. Something I especially like here is the fact this is from a male POV because it shows that hey, guys have emotions and suffer from heartbreak too, and that's a great thing to show. Well, in all fairness, I don't think you specified the narrator being a guy at any point--it could be a gay relationship being discussed here--but I'm kind of assuming he is. I like the monologue style you have here too, you don't see many stories written like this. So yus. A big thumbs up from me overall.

In regards to critiques, one thing I do agree with from Sacredlege's review is the comment made regarding to overdoing it a little with the poetic language. This is very much a personal viewpoint--some readers will want as many intricate, descriptive sentences as possible--but I do think there's such thing as too much, and you do overstep that lie occasionally here. I'm not going to ramble on about this because it's already been explained brilliantly in your other review, so you hardly want me here sounding like a broken record, but what I will say is that it's something that can be fixed quite easily. It's a lot easier to go back and simplify things than to go back and complicate them. Simply erasing some words and simplifying phrasing can work wonders for this issue, so it's not a massive one. You just need to strike the balance between pretty and poetic, and simple to understand and follow.

I think the main thing I was left wondering after reading this were the detail of your narrator's relationship. You sort of tip toed around their relationship and why it broke down, but I can't help feeling like I've left this with a small sense of emptiness. I mean, why did the relationship break down? We never really find out. I get the idea that the narrator himself doesn't quite understand why, but I think it would actually be a pretty cool concept for you to hint to us readers what went wrong, show us signs of the relationship breaking down e.t.c. without the narrator himself realising them. Err, if that makes any sense whatsoever. It's just that without us having some kind of sense of what went right and what went wrong here, it's difficult to create a sense of empathy within your readers unless they have a personal connection to this sort of story like I do. It just adds substance to everything, y'know?

On a similar note, what exactly is so great about this chick? You've got your narrator gushing over here and how wonderful she is, but we don't see any of that wonderfulness. I mean, she kind of just seems like a bit of a dick. Perhaps that's exactly the impression you wanted to give, but even so, I want to feel like I know this girl as a person, not as some afterthought of a piece of writing. This will further increase the empathy within your readers, so it's a win-win situation. Who is she?What about her made your narrator fall in love? Even some physical description could help. I mean, what does she look like? is she a classic beauty with long hair and pretty features, or is she more of an alternative beauty? Her character itself is more important, of course, but a physical description would add another layer to her character. As in the last critique, it's all about adding substance to strengthen the story as a whole.

There's just one more thing I want to add, though there's a 50/50 chance this is me just beign dumb. That happens a lot. Basically, I noticed that you referred to the girl in this with a varying narrative stance. By which I mean one moment you were referring to the girl in third person, and then you'd go on to use second person as if addressing the girl herself. Was that intentional? It's a little confusing, and I did find myself questioning whether the same girl was being discussed at times. I might just be majorly missing something innovative and creative you've done here--probably am, knowing me--but if that is an accident, I'd suggest reading back through this and editing it accordingly.

Anywho, I think that's it. This was a really great read for me, and even though I do think it could be toned down in places, I do love the prettiness of your writing. Sacredlege left you such a great review that I feel a little useless here, to be honest. I don't want to just parrot stuff he said, but also want to have something half decent to say, so it's a little tricky. I hope I have been able to help you with this in some shape or form though, and be sure to let me know if there's something you want me to explain further, or if you just generally want to chat with me about this review on the whole.

Keep writing,

xoxo Sins

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Tue Oct 11, 2016 1:20 pm

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Sujana wrote a review...

A Note For The Second Reviewer (and to Some Extent the Author): This work requires proofreading. Not a lot, but just enough for the work to suffer because of it.

Now, to carry on with the review.

Introduction

"His, is the way of the weak and pretentious."

It's unfortunate how well that sentence fits this story, so far.

Let me gather my thoughts, because I'm not accustomed to this sort of tumble. Because you have tumbled, and it does show. It's not a failure, of course. Nothing is. And I've read worst mistakes, anyhow, so I should probably let you slide for this one. But if I were honest, I read through this with an astounded look on my face, and the most damning smile, because what you did wrong (in my humble opinion) was what most writers do right.

Of course, that's for later. For now, I'll just leave you with this introduction, as a bit of a warning--regrettably, this review won't exactly be glimmering with praise.

The Beginning

"I task myself with an attempt to fully express current state of my mind and emotions that do plague me presently and did for some time now, in their purest form, to have them described in great detail and written as they are, for eternity. I must procced hastily because with the restless flow of time they might dwindle and, as a result, disappear forever in my passive consciousness or stay as a vague outline of feelings once felt. Time is the greatest devourer, but scripture has always been its greatest rival."

...Where do I begin?

Let me begin with one of my famous analogies. I'd like to think that writing is comparable to painting--your words are the color on your palette, and whichever you choose will change how the viewer perceives the subject. For example, you don't paint a war scene with periwinkle or light pink or anything you'd paint a baby room with, because it's a war scene. Unless you intend to associate war with cute and cuddly things, you don't paint it that way. You paint a war scene with dark shades of red, black, perhaps a dash of silver for the clash of swords. Theoretically, that's how you convey a scene.

You can, however, overcolor your painting. That's when your palette is so filled with strong colors, such as black, that you now can only barely see your image. This is equally bad. Just as drowning your work in long, unnecessary words/phrases is as ineffective as filling your work with vague words and cliches. And it's even worse, since it's at the beginning, the part of the work where the reader is supposed to pick up on what's going on. You nearly scared me off, and I can guarantee you, this review will be dauntingly long and unnecessary.

While I congratulate you for using longer and more colorful words, I'd encourage you to put down the thesaurus, and write like an ordinary person would think. A couple of fancy words is fine, great, even. But you need to calm down, just a bit.

To show you what I mean, I'll give a short example of how the beginning might've gone, if you used simpler words:

I task myself with an attempt to convey the thoughts that have tormented me these past few days, and to have them described in great detail. I must write hastily, before they disappear from my consciousness, leaving me with shadows of a memory or a repressed delusion. Time is the greatest devourer, but ink doesn't fade quickly.

or, if you want to be extremely direct:

I've been thinking of you. I'm afraid that, if I don't, I'll somehow forget.

Not the best example, of course. I'm sure you can do better in due time. However, if you've noticed in the first (and more accurate) edit, I've omitted some phrases (that I italicized in the first quote). That's because, while some of them have poetic value, most of them are dead weight to the paragraph, and only serve to give the readers a headache. Poetry in prose is reasonable, but it should always be done with a reason.

Main Criticisms

Besides the above:

-I don't think it helps that I'm not a fan of romance. I mean, that's certainly not why I don't favor this work, it just doesn't help. And, unfortunately, your work does showcase the two things I dislike about the genre: One, it's habit of mistaking flowery language for substance (see Beginning for explanation), and two, it's lack of substance.

Helpful Tip: If you can sum up your work in less than a sentence, without losing any significant internal conflict or interesting character development, your work probably lacks substance. I feel like this work can be summed up as "I just got dumped and I am extremely upset, no matter what my friends tell me," without losing anything important. No internal conflict within the protagonist, no interesting character development for the love interest, not even a shadow of a larger arc or some metaphor for real life issues.

Add something interesting in there. A description of the love interest, a hint of what her personality is like, why the protagonist likes her (other than 'because she's beautiful and we're destined to be together and i can't live without her omg <3'), why the protagonist might dislike her, literally anything. Throw in a dragon in there, maybe. It worked for George R.R Martin, it could work for you.

Whatever the case, though, no matter how interesting your romantic union is, it's not the romance that holds it up, it's always something else. Romeo & Juliet? Family feud. Wuthering Heights? Madness. Othello? Infidelity. The Fault in Our Stars? Cancer. Twilight? Vampires. Any realistic romance without a significant plot involving kidnapping or some other goal? Interesting characters that clash. You need something else to differentiate you from the crowd, and as it is, flowery language isn't going to cut it.

-Reading through this, I sort of instinctively assumed that it was set somewhere in the Victorian era (Dickens, Doyle, Austen, the Brontes and Wilde has cemented that as 'death by thesauruses and tuberculosis'), but honestly I have no idea. There's no imagery to suggest otherwise. In fact, there's no imagery at all. For a work with so many words and so many fancy descriptions, it lacks any descriptions describing the current state of things, or how old the two protagonists are, or anything to suggest the two essential intrinsic elements: a) Time, b) Place. I mean, it wouldn't need to, if it had an interesting enough set of characters (which I'll get to in a moment), but unfortunately it's hard to have to interesting characters float around in dark space without the reader starting to scratch their head in confusion.

-Characters. Chhhhhaaaaaarrraaacterrrrs. C. H. A. R. A. C. T. E. R. S. This work has them, in the strictest sense, and in nothing else beyond that. The main character's motivation is dependent on the love interest, and the love interest seemingly has no motivation. Perhaps this'll change soon when you continue this work (I highlighted that just to inform you that yes, I am aware that this is an unfinished product), but as of now everything hinges upon why she left, and since that hasn't been answered it means that this work is hinging on thin air. Give your characters something else to work with. Where did they first meet? Maybe the main character met her when they were in a judo tournament? Maybe they conversed over a peculiar set of flowers? Anything. Literally anything. He can long for the love interest, but he can't only long for the love interest, he needs to have some other interest that's at least briefly mentioned, just to prove that he's human. Poetry! That's what he probably is, a poet wooing his dear lady. I don't know, it works for me. Quickest fix if you ask me.

Main Praises

I've been incredibly cruel to you so far. I think I've been fairly cruel at times, and just downright cruel in others. Unfortunately, I can't undo what I've already done, and I hope that you can take it lightly. I'm not angry at anybody. I don't hate this work. In fact, I have enough interesting things to mention in it. Unfortunately, I'm usually rather sparse about my praises, because negative things require a "how-to-fix" which tends to make them longer, whereas praises are simply "things-you-should-do-again" and don't require much effort. So bear that in mind.

-While poetry is usually the detriment of romance, I'm quite fond of how you write certain sentences. Even though I challenged your use of 'scripture' in the beginning:

Time is the greatest devourer, but scripture has always been its greatest rival.

I do like the overall sentiment of the quote. It's very (for a lack of better word) poetic, and it would've been wonderful if it was something akin to a treat you give to a dog, a candy for a child when they're behaving good. If the reader had to wait through a couple of somewhat dull scenes to get this one treat, it would've been much more effective than shoving candy in the readers' mouth every five seconds.

-You do know how to convey an emotion, I'll give you that. While it does end up feeling like some guy screaming into a vacant void, you get the distraught the guy is feeling almost immediately, and it doesn't take much for the audience to tell what's going on. It's showing more than telling as well, which is a pitfall most writers fall into. Given a more complete structure and setting, I think it could echo out very well.

Highlights

This has been extremely long, and I'd like to finally end this with a couple of highlights. I'll try not to be long.

"Imagine a person dependent on a drug, a drug which gave him everything he ignorantly believed he was deprived of, and then, after reconciling with the fact that it was going to be part of his life, out of the blue, everything goes awry, and he no longer has access to it for reasons he can only guess."

Let's ignore the fact that the "Your Love is a Drug" cliche has been so commonly used at this point that Kesha's made a song about it more than a year ago. You can only cram so many clauses into one sentence before it becomes unreadable. Try "Imagine a person dependent on a drug that gave him everything he thought he was missing. Imagine, then, just when he thought it would be a permanent fixture of his life, he loses it." Easier to read.

"Your indecisiveness, my love, of which I feel a victim, amazes me."

A bit like the clause problem, except this time even more unnecessary. Try: "Your indecisiveness amazes me." Just that. We already know that he's a victim of the girl's indecisiveness, and we already know he loves her. Don't keep pressing it.

"Every day I woke up with fear of losing her."

and

"She, whom I always addressed as ‘my happiness’, appeared atypically coldhearted and explained with a formal speech that my love has become but a burden to you, from which you wanted to liberate."

You occasionally refer to the girl as 'she'. Pick a term, stick with it. Unless, of course, he's in an illustrious affair and the 'she' is a separate girl. In that case, make it clearer. That sounds like an interesting enough conflict.

"‘Hope we’ll meet again someday!’ She stopped as a gesture she understood the words well, and then kept walking again without ever looking back."

Okay, this made me laugh. After paragraph after paragraph of purple prose, who would've thought that the first line of dialogue would be as simple as "Hope we'll meet again someday!"? No "Till our paths cross again, my love"? No "May your journey be as prosperous as mine, and may Fate weave our destinies once more in the future"? I feel like I've been reading an overly elaborate joke. It turns out that, yes, this has been a love story between two kindergarteners, one of whom read through their fathers' classic book collection and decided to impress the other with an eloquent love letter. Fantastic.

...If that was your intention, this was all entirely useless and I have proven myself, yet again, an idiot. Sorry for wasting your time.

--Elliot.

Young Writers Society

Confessions of a lover

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