Thread: monologue (needs title)

Woman sits center stage on a Daybed in the bedroom

she is holding a teddy-bear with a box of chocolates next to her

Some women, when they’re in love say “I can’t live without him” but isn't it funny how much of an exaggeration that is? I have felt the same way in my life, I’ve said those things. We all have, haven't we? But to say you can’t live without someone just isn't true. When I lost someone, when it happened to me, well of course I was upset. I was devastated. But life goes on and you learn to live with your feelings.

(Just changed the love of my life thing, to can’t live without him, because it makes more sense with what you say next)


It was a beautiful day, how was I to know it would have such a tragic ending? Having slept through the alarm, we sluggishly made coffee and toast before getting ready for the beach. Every moment of that day is stamped into my memory, with every detail present. While I was out in the garden, collecting lettuce from our vegetable patch to go in our picnic, I heard his soft, loving voice call me.

“Where are you my love?”


I think about all the things I said to him that day. “I’m in the garden dear, I won’t be a minute,” Why did I have to say that? Why didn’t I tell him I loved him and that he'll be mine forever? Not once that day did I tell him I loved him, not once.


Shortly after, we left for the beach, as I said, it was a beautiful day. The sun was high and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The drive up there was picturesque. We drove past fields, forests, and stables. As we neared our destination we approached a perfect horizon, a crystal blue sea, and we actually saw a dolphin jumping out of the water. I felt like we were in paradise.


As we got closer to the sea, the smell of salt water made me thirsty, so we stopped off at the local café to get a drink before taking a long stroll across the promenade. While walking, we started talking about life. We spoke about how precious and unpredictable life is. The subject of our wills came up. In retrospect, it’s beyond strange that we had that conversation not hours before he died. It’s almost like he knew.

(- I really hated that Will bit. Seemed rushed and awkward. Just reworded it a bit, you should play with it a bit more, that’s just a rough idea)


We walked for about an hour before we found a small cubbyhole off the main beach, the sand was golden and felt warm under our feet. It slipped through our toes like a snake, there was not a child in sight and all we could hear was the peaceful sound of the waves crashing on the shore.


We sat down with our salads and sandwiches on our laps and started eating. Soon after, John fell asleep, so I got my book out and started reading. I can’t for the life of me remember what the book was called but it was about a tomboy who lives with her sisters and longs to be a writer. I believe it is by Louisa May Alcott.


While I was reading I felt the wind pick up, so I looked at the sky and saw a big black cloud rolling in, I woke John and we walked back to the car.
The drive back wasn't so scenic, the wind was blowing and it had started raining rather heavily. Then, ahead, we saw a man lose control of his car. He was swerving all over the place, we tried to avoid him but our fate was sealed, then... crash, he hit us.


John and I were both knocked unconscious. I was told sometimes later by a fellow motorist who witnessed the accident and phoned the ambulance. While in the hospital, I was treated for minor cuts and bruises, then taken into the family room. I knew this meant bad news, I had seen it on television. But I didn't say anything, I was too scared.

I was in there for over an hour before I had the strength of will to ask where John was. They said he had been taken into theater because there was a shard of metal in his side, but they could fix it. No matter how much the nurses reassured me, I knew he wasn't going to make it, I don't know why I felt that way, but I did, and I felt horrid for thinking it. But as soon as one of the nurses came into the room, with a tear in her eye, I knew I was right. Before she even told me the news, I was in tears. Screaming for it to be a lie, for her to have gotten it wrong, then the dreaded words came out of her mouth,

“I'm sorry madam, but he didn't make it,”


“No, no! This can't be,” I said “You said he was going to be fine, you said he was going to make it. You lied to me” I started crying, louder and louder. He was dead, my lovely John... Dead.
It's been four years now, since, he, well passed away. Whenever someone mentions him or shows me a photo that he is in, I still tear up. But I suppose that’s natural.


So here I am telling you my story, still missing John. Maybe someday, I will forget the bad time, and only remember the good. But as one chapter finishes, another starts.



Hey pretty. HUGE improvement this time.
I just went through and fixed up a few spelling/grammar things, and picked on a few other things that could use a bit of tidying. But well done on the rewrite. You really took what I recommended before on board.

yeah, thanks. i am going to have another re-write this weekend, ill pm you the final results and you can tell me what you think.