Incandescent

A short story that is a little sad and very romantic.

Incandescent

I remember the pain, the hurt, the tears, but I also remember the laughs, the hugs, and how your hand so gently intertwined with mine. 

The pain came first. It ripped through my heart every time I met your eyes. This pain only lasted a bit, but then came the hurt. The gashes left behind, the broken heartstrings that fought to stay together, and the love that remained; it all hurt. After the pain was gone, I was left with a pure, utter hurt inside. This vicious cycle started from the first moment I met you. Pain and hurt would course through my body as the day preceded, and once I got home the tears fell. Alone in my room with the shades pulled open I could see the stars and the moon. I thought about how the moon's light felt so inadequate compared to the smile I had seen only hours before. The tears fell as I started to replay the day. As I recounted all the girls who's attention you ensnared. The tears fell as I hoped that one day the attention you give so easily would one day be directed to me. The tears fell as I silently shook, attempting to breath through the pain and hurt of seeing you everyday. And finally the tears fell as I came to the realization that you would never close your eyes at night and picture my smile, you would never lay awake with tears in your beautiful eyes thinking about me. And the tears continued to fall. 

The next day I would wake up and the cycle would start again. As I walked the boys would yell, put a smile on your face, and so I did. I pushed the pain and hurt deep inside me. Laughing, playing, and smiling throughout the day as may inner hurricane continued. When I walk into the classroom the only thing my eyes see first is you, your glorious smile. The way the light seems to shine right out of your finger tips and the ends of your shaggy hair. Of course I do not say anything. I do nothing to provoke the storm inside me. But then something great happens, and I am assigned into a group of two with you. I think to myself that I must have drifted into the eye of the hurricane for such luck, until I realized how hard it would be. For you did not know about my ridiculous longing for you. You didn't know about the cycle I went through everyday and every night just to be able to think about you. 

As the project continued we talked more, and I fell for you harder. The hurt became almost unbearable the day he announced over a latte that he might have a thing with a senior. I put on my best fake smile and joked about how much game he had in the most sarcastic, flirtatious way possible. But nothing could hide how I felt in that moment. He looked at me for a while and stared deep into my eyes, causing them to water, and asked what was wrong. I, of course, shrugged him off saying that I was fine and excused myself to the bathroom. As soon as I broke the plane of the doorway that storm that I had so protectively crushed deep into my person overflowed. The tears and pain were almost unbearable. I couldn't breath, I couldn't see, and I defiantly couldn't think. A waitress then opened the door to the bathroom and asked what had happened. She explained that I had been in there for almost 20 minutes and that the boy I was sitting with had become worried. I had no perception of time and everything was a blur. I must have crooked out something along the lines of "I am okay. Just tell the boy to leave without me...I will be fine" because the waitress left and when I came out of the bathroom he was gone. There was a piece of paper stuffed in the literature book I had brought that said, "Not sure what happened. Coffee and project tomorrow?" And of course in a typical me fashion, I broke down again. 

The next day I saw him. We said hello in passing in the hallway and then while we were both walking in opposite directions he stops and yells down the hall for me. I turn around and see him jogging against the grain of the self-absorbed high school students. My heart raced as he neared. He asked about yesterday and if I ended up making it home alright. I said yes and came up with a lame excuse for my outburst. We rescheduled for this weekend, but in a park instead. As he was speaking he was close to my ear for it was extremely loud. But as he pulled away his lips brushed my cheek. I could feel the warmth hours afterward and I felt as though his natural internal light transferred itself onto my cheek. And that night I kept replaying his soft whisper in my ear and the euphoric feeling of his lips on my cheek.

The weeks went along one getting better than the last. I felt as though we were growing closer, but I tried not to dream to hard because the rejection would cut deeper than anything before. Then one day my doubts were erased. We were the the same cafe that I had my breakdown in. We both had our literature books and finals were approaching so we were both studying hard. I had my face down in my book when he placed his hand on mine. I looked up expecting a quick pullback, but there was none. His electric blue eyes stared into mine with the deepest passion. My heart began to beat faster and my arms acquired goosebumps. He gazed into my eyes and said words dripping with affection. He explained how he had always longed for me. How every time I looked away he would find himself staring at me. How it would hurt him when I would talk in the halls with other boys and how he couldn't bear to see me hug someone else. He explained how the day we were at the cafe he made up the story about him and a senior to see if I would be jealous. His words caressed the air around my ears and made tears form in my eyes. I looked away in order to hide my puffy red eyes, it was then that he grabbed my chin and lifted my lips to his. The warmth that radiated from the kiss made my head spin. I couldn't see, feel, or concentrate on anything else, only his lips. He pulled away gently and kissed my cheek in the exact same place that he had weeks prior.

Just like that all the pain from before vanished. The storm inside me began to dissipate and I began to sleep with only good memories. The tears that used to run so steady down my face and into my pillow stopped. Where there used to be pain in my heart is now only filled with love. I never told him all the things that I used to do every night. I never told him about the horrifying cycle I would endure just to dream about him. I figured it didn't matter anymore. Now as I lay my head on my pillow I know that there is some beautiful electric blue eyed boy thinking about me. Thinking about our memories and how our hands so perfectly intwine, as though they were crafted together but were somehow separated. 

Reviews

[avant security guard]

2nd paragraph
all the girls who's
should be whose
very, very fire filled pain filled young love-ish YA
excellent
it got good with just the tiny bit of dialogue
keep adding dialogue to let the story breathe and live a life of its own
you'll realize, as you add dialogue, the characters will say things you don't expect

[Elizabeth Maguire]

Okay and thank you

[barleygirl]

Your story is certainly spellbinding and emotional. The reader is captured and interested from beginning to end. The way the mutual attraction is revealed is slow & drawn out in a nice way to keep the suspense going. I think your story happens to many young people & so it's very relatable.

Here are a few things that can help improve your writing in the future. Your story starts out with mostly a bunch of descriptions of crying. I think it goes on a little too long about the crying, but without ever SHOWING us what's going on between the two of you. The first rule of good writing is to SHOW, don't tell. I found myself wanting to see what this guy was all about, why were you so drawn to him, what endearing habits did he have, when you were together, why did you feel so drawn to him, and why did you cry constantly about this. A good example of this is when you described how his lips touched your cheek the first time. This is a very delicious description of detail that SHOWS us the longing . . . I would like to see about 100 times more of this kind of thing, rather than just crying, crying, crying. The first part of this story sounds more like a description of depression, rather than longing. I need you to show me what this longing looks like, feels like, smells like, tastes like. You can use analogies like how much brighter the day would be right after you talked to him, describing the flowers or the sun in the sky, as simple examples, but I know you can find your own unique ways to show us how he brightened your day. Otherwise, we really have no idea why you're crying constantly, other than being in a state of chronic depression. Your story really starts coming alive when you two are assigned on a project together, so we can finally see more about what it's like to be together, & why this sends you to the moon and back.

Please don't stop writing . . . you have the basics down pat already, & your storytelling is solid. The more you read & write, the better you will get (((HUGS)))

[Elizabeth Maguire]

Thank you so much for the helpful tips. I will be sure to employ them in future pieces!

[Robert Parlange]

Good story. I liked the intimacy of the first-person narration. We walk past people every day and never know what has transpired in their lives. Everyone has a story to tell.

The way you “book-ended” the story with "intertwined hands" was clever. It brought the story to a satisfying ending.

Keep writing. You are talented.

[Elizabeth Maguire]

Thank you so much I truly appreciate your comment. It means a lot seeing as I was about to stop writing. It warms my heart to hear someone suggest otherwise. Thanks again.

[Robert Parlange]

Don't stop writing. You learn to write by writing. Keep going. WritersCafe is a great place to learn how to write.

[Inject Positivity]

This is truly beautiful in it's own way... It projects how a person longs for another person in love but she hardly could speak her feelings to him. You gave a touch of individual uniqueness to the piece. When we fell in love like that it's hard to control such feeling, we crave for every opportunity to be with that person... We desire for their love. And when we find that the person is staring at someone else we feel a brokenness inside. Oh you made me emotional.

I really enjoyed the detailed storytelling style of yours. It grips the reader's mind with a touching feel. From the very first your descriptions have been spot on. Very well done frnd.

Sincerely
Dhiman

[Elizabeth Maguire]

Thank you so much! As it is my very first post I am very happy with your feedback. I only hope I can make more stories you can enjoy.