Mad Girl

Most people write about heartbreak.  It’s one of our favourite things to read and write about.  Why? Is it so we can read other people’s versions of how they had their hearts ripped out of their chests and find comfort in the fact we are not the only ones who have gone through this? Or is it for the ‘others’; those who did the heartbreaking?  So we can try and get a small understanding of what our victims might have gone through. Or is it just an entertaining thing to read about? The heartbreak they have suffered - that someone else has inflicted on their poor heart. 

*

1. Dark places remind me of you.  Everything reminds me of you, but especially dark places.  The dark corners of cinemas, of parties. We were fifteen. Your hands were always cold.  You were my best friend and we knew everything about each other.    You talked a mile a minute and I was quiet and you were optimistic even though you were sad and I was a pessimist even though I was happy.   We don’t talk anymore.  It’s 2 am and my caramel coffee has long-since stopped steaming, yet I hold it in my hand, my fingers wrapped around the even colder porcelain.   The glow of the open laptop screen fills up my dark bedroom with an eerie light.  A conversation dated “May 5th, 2011” takes up the screen.  A year ago today we were talking about simple nothings; how much you tried to hide that you loved me, and how much I tried to make you admit it.  You never did, except when you were drunk and messaging me at godforsaken hours of the morning like I wish you were now.    Our relationship was a lie to everyone, except us.  Only we knew how much we meant to each other (or, as it has turned out, only I knew).  Everyone else only saw what they wanted to see, which was us, wrapped desperately around each other in dark corners of cinemas and parties.  They didn’t see how happy we made each other, how long we spoke to each other every night, how we had to speak to each other every night or our days would feel like something was missing.  We understood each other without either of us needing to say anything.  You knew all the cold, dark, dusty corners of everything I hid away, and because of that I thought you would always be there.  But it’s 2 am and I’m sitting here, with my cold coffee in my hand, reading past conversations that don’t happen anymore.

        *

2. “He likes you.”  Lena whispered as loudly as she could into my ear. My cheeks went pink but my thoughts went blue.   

“He doesn’t seem real though.” My thoughts accidentally slipped out of my mouth.  Lena frowned and pushed me towards him and that was that.  We were seventeen and I found myself falling for you, the teenage boy with the baby face and blue eyes that didn’t seem real.   For the first time in my life my thoughts were fuzzy and I liked this.  Everything was better when I stopped paying attention to detail.  My mind was still getting sicker but you, you were the pain relief.  Not the cure though, sadly.  Our relationship was poison, relationships are always poison when one half thinks the other can do no wrong.  I realised this when I caught you with her and threw everything you gave me at the wall.  I cut myself on the glass and it didn’t hurt.

      *

3. I’m nineteen and taking the train up to visit you during the summer holidays.  My first year of university is over, completed, finished with good marks.   I sit by myself on the window seat and try to stop myself smiling, thinking about how I’ve done this.  The hospital bracelets and evil memories of the past two years are in a jewellery box under my bed back home.  Memories of the weight falling off and my hair falling out and the sinister voices in my head.  There are still reminders, but right now I’ve made it another year and right now I’m on my way to see you.  Two hours later I can spot you from a mile away, your hands in your pockets and your long dreadlocked hair is tied back - true hippy style.  A new piercing glitters in the sun and I remember how much I’ve missed you.  We walk along the small twisting side streets until you pull me into an opening in the wall called Florence’s.  Florence’s smells like coffee and sugar and musky tired-looking, guitar-holding musicians who sing home made songs into a skinny microphone stand.  We order - you have strong coffee and I have a sugary red drink with an umbrella that would have made me cry with guilt last year.   Not this year though.  I want to remember everything I can with you. How you can appreciate my true love for the musician Jeff Buckley, the writer Bukowski, and the artist Schiele like no one else, and how content you make me.  This year is about happy.

We fall in love many times but these three are the most important.  Fall in love with your best friend so you can understand the fine line between friendship and something more, and how easily it can break.  Fall in love with someone whom you thought was perfect only to find out they, in fact, weren’t.  This will help you understand that everyone is not who they seem.  And then fall in love with someone who is just like you as a way of understanding yourself better because once you understand who you are, it all fits together.  

Author's Note

Competition for school, this is the rough copy and I've already sent in the good copy :) thanks for everyone's help xx

Reviews

[khalid]

1st paragraph, have gone through ( without this), their poor hearts ( not heart)...if it is a whole passage, i dont see there is a link between the introduction and the first paragraph. you should make a link between them to let the reader know who you are talking about in the 1st paragraph, you can say for example, this is my own story..or..i was included in hearbreaking myself..i have nothing else to say, i see it is very nice , goodluck

[Jay. E. V.]

You have a very long run on in paragraph one starting with "You talked a mile a minute". That could use some tightening up. When writing for competitions, try to avoid the use of slang phrases, as even in creative writing, they can frown upon it. You do an excellent job of capturing the depth of the despair, and of how withered the relationship became. I can relate all to well with this, recently in fact. And if you want, you can leave out the "drunk" part, as it takes away from the urgency a little bit. It seems more powerful without it. "This year is about happy" is an excellent line to end on, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Oh good;D, now I can use my voice, instead of creative reviewer me. I loved this piece, you really had a hook early on. You brought up a topic that many people can relate with, and made it urgent=D. I could actually see the darkness. You have a lot of talent, and with some perfecting you will be amazing=D.

[GunMetal]

For me, I believe I wrote about my heartbreak because it was comforting to do so, and because taking that awful experience and creating something out of it gave it value. I shared that writing because it was a form of release. Receiving sympathy created validation for what I was feeling and helped me realize that my feelings weren't absolute. They were abstract. Through that understanding I could then interpret my emotions in a variety of ways and better learn from the experience. I read about heartbreak because I find shared experience gratifying and sometimes humbling. I say this because I hope you can relate to these thoughts, and because your intro begs for perspective (that's not a critique by the way, that's literally what your intro seems to be about). I have some suggestions for you but it's quite a bit of writing so I'll send you a message so that you don't think I'm fishing for points. =P

I will say though, this entire piece was very enjoyable. Each story you shared was heartfelt and affective.