Write What You Know

Wow. I was not expecting that. No offence, or anything. I usually don't read in the romantic short stories section, but the title caught my attention. I loved this! No nitpicks from me.
-UCntCMee

ofir wrote:They say write about what you know. I know I hurt you. And I know I'm sorry for it. I'm sorry I didn't think it throughcomma when I carelessly played with your emotions.

I know your veins are blue. I like tracing them with the tips of my fingers comma maybe....tips of your fingers, watching the corners of your mouth tilt upwardsand then watch the corners of your mouth tilt upwards.

I know how to bake a pretty decent orange cake. Grandma's recipe - she taught me in the first grade.

I know how to hug; it's pretty simple, I can teach you - you stretch your arms upward, wrapping them around the neck of someone you lovecomma and maybe....someone you love, pulling them forward, softly and pull them softly forward.

I think I know how to cry; bits of your soul leak out from your eyes, and you lose pieces of yourself - only the sad pieces - through the tears. That's how it's supposed to becomma anyways.

I'm supposed to write about what I know.

But, if you want us to be honest with each other... what do I know? You left. I don't know anything. I don't know if you really loved me. I don't know what I'm feeling right now, with the thrumming of my heart uneven in my chest. I don't know how to tell you I'm sorry I didn't stop to explain that it's not like that, not for me, and that you shouldn't take it hard, it's not you, it's not, it's me. I don't know why I ran away. I don't know why you left me. I don't know why this thing between us is broken and we just can't seem to fix it, not with all the superglue in the world. I don't know why when you interlace our fingers I get butterflies in the pit of my stomach - but when someone else does it, it doesn't happen. I don't know if I made you cry. That thought bothers me.

I don't know anything; you left, remember?

Want me to write about what I know? Fine!

I will! I know war, and I know what it's like trying to pass the time with gas masks commaso we're not poisened by the very air we breathe. I know what it's like to sit in a cramped room, holding a pillow to the sides of your face and wondering if the hurricane out there has killed anyone yet. I know what it's like to feel embarrassed of yourself, ashamed for your own behavior and faltering voice and mumbling words and wishing a pit would open and swallow you up. I know what it's like to hug a stuffed animal at midnight sharp, hidden under the covers, and cry, just leaking your soul out - and then, when you look at the clock, you're surprised you lived another day. Genuine surprise.

What do you know? What do you know about me? About any of this?

I know I'm sorry. I know I'm crying. I know you make my heart thrilled sometimescomma and the next moment you make it hurt so much in my chest.

I know I'm sick of this.

I know I have to tell you that. But I'm scared.

They say write about what you know... but I don't know anything anymore.

This was pretty good. I really liked it. Just a few suggestions.
1).

I don't know how to tell you I'm sorry I didn't stop to explain that it's not like that, not for me, and that you shouldn't take it hard, it's not you, it's not, it's me.

I love this story. I love how you said you knew him then changed your mind. You made your readers feel the pain she was feeling. You made us understand her situation in detail. I love how you compared things, I love how you went through and told us that you were gonna write about what you know, and then at the end you said "I dont know anything anymore" Bravo(:
-'member me(:

Although I did see a few spelling and grammar mistakes, I won't point them out because I'm commenting just because I loved this piece. I loved how it had the innocence of a child who is confused, who knows only simple things. And even though there is that childlike vulnerability there is also some strange wisdom to the words.

Such a beautiful story.

Jasmine.

This piece is impressive!
Your main character started off seeming so inncocent and fragile and then you built it to such a crescendo and then she turns into someone who is bitter and broken, the emotions were beautifully captured, well done!
*daydreamer

This is absolutly wonderfull, but the line about the cake was a little random. This really speaks to people because we have all had that friend or boyfriend that has left us with an emotional scar. I just recently got really mad at my best guy friend for being really stupid and reckless(check out my poem called Math, its about him) but this sums up my feelings a lot better than I ever could. I like how in the beginning it is kind of quiet and sad but by the end it gets louder and madder.*Applause* Keep writing, you're wonderful!

Hello Ofir,

I'll begin with the nitpicks and then move on with the overall impression.

I liked tracing them with the tips of my fingers and then watch the corners of your mouth tilt upwards.

I think I know how to cry; bits of your soul leaks out from your eyes, and you lose pieces of yourself

I don't know how to tell you I'm sorry. I didn't stop to explain that it's not like that, not for me, and that you shouldn't take it hard, it's not you. It's not. It's me.

I don't know why, when you interlace our fingers, I get butterflies in the pit of my stomach

As a rule I do not like the genre but I have to say this is amazing. I loved gthe opening as it was simply put and almost child like and then you hit us with that paragraph of whoa. It was astounding. It had depth I was not even close to expecting. I am usually a harsh judge but I can not say anything bad about this.

If you write anything like this again let me know please.

Thanks for this. Sorry it wasn't much help.

~Retro Disco666