PDA

View Full Version : Unkindest of Cuts



Sophia
February 20th, 2012, 05:50 AM
So, this is my first post on the forum. It's a short piece, only about 600 words or so. Hope you enjoy. :)

It had always been him, and it had always come back to this moment, the two of them deciding what they would be, after all. She ran her fingers through her dark hair, trying so hard not to appear fidgety, but never really managing to pull it off. His blue eyes peered back at her, steady, apologetic. She suddenly knew what he was going to say, didn’t even have to hear him say it, and she felt her stomach lurch, her heart begin to race.

“No,” she said, holding her hand up, palm out, as if thismight stop the next cut from coming.

He took a few steps towards her and she wondered, for just a moment, if maybe she’d read him wrong. He rested his hands lightly on her hips, looked into her eyes and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, feeling the tears beginning to descend, and wrapped her fingers into his shirt, pulling him closer for just a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he took a step back so she let him go.

She wondered if he heard it, the enormous break that wrenched itself in her heart. She wondered if he noticed that she was falling to pieces as he walked away, the air being torn from her lungs, her heart shattering in the unkindest of cuts.

::

The spot next to her was empty. She laid on her back with her fingers resting on her stomach and stared at the ceiling so that she wouldn’t look at the empty spot next to her and imagine how he would look if he were lying next to her, what it would feel like if he were here to hold her.

The memories scratched at her all day, constantly. It was a smile, an old t-shirt that he had long forgotten bout, a text that she should have deleted but she couldn’t. It happened a million times a day, and she just grew so exhausted from fighting him all the time – fighting, that is, to not call him, to not drown in his memories – because Lord knows, he never would have thought to fight for her.
We used to be so inlove, she thought as she stared up at the ceiling; it’s crazy to think that we aren’t anymore.

::

Sometimes, on her darkest days, she wondered if it would ever get better. If there would ever be a point where she wouldn’t fall to pieces at the thought of him, if she wouldn’t stare at her cell phone and will it to ring. It was devastating to be in love with someone who had forgotten you like you never even existed.
She didn’t understand.

::

It took her a minute when she woke up in the mornings, to remember the events that had transpired, to remember that he wasn’t hers to love anymore. She would open her eyes, look over, wonder where he was for just a moment, just an instant long enough that she could feel the burn, the ache, when she remembered.

She had loved him, and he had left her. She ran her fingers through her hair, stared at herself in the mirror. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering the courage to make it through another day. It was devastating to face the truth about the two of them and their inability to make this something that they could keep, to imagine that she wasn’t enough to make him stay, that he had never wanted her as much as she had wanted him.

It was the unkindest of cuts.

Potty
February 20th, 2012, 06:24 AM
So, this is my first post on the forum. It's a short piece, only about 600 words or so. Hope you enjoy. :)

It had always been him, and it had always come back to this moment, the two of them deciding what they would be, after all. She ran her fingers through her dark hair, trying so hard not to appear fidgety, but never really managing to pull it off. His blue eyes peered back at her, steady, apologetic. She suddenly knew what he was going to say, didn’t even have to hear him say it, and she felt her stomach lurch, her heart begin to race.

“No,” she said, holding (Now I'm a bit rubbish when it comes to tenses but I think this should be 'held' not 'holding') her hand up, palm out, (I would just leave this at "Held her hand up" most people will know what you mean.) as if thismight stop the next cut from coming.

He took a few steps towards her and she wondered, for just a moment, if maybe she’d read him wrong. He rested (Should this be 'rest'? I'm not sure but rested sounds a bit clunky to me.) his hands lightly on her hips, looked into her eyes and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, feeling the tears beginning to descend, and wrapped her fingers into his shirt, pulling him closer for just a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he took a step back so she let him go.

She wondered if he heard it, the enormous break that wrenched itself in her heart. (I like this line :) ) She wondered if he noticed that she was falling to pieces as he walked away, the air being torn from her lungs, her heart shattering in the unkindest of cuts.

::

The spot next to her was empty. (I would be tempted to delete this first line. Its repeated again later on with a bit more power) She laid on her back with her fingers resting on her stomach and stared at the ceiling so that she wouldn’t look at the empty spot next to her (this is where it's repeated) and imagine how he would look if he were lying next to her (And here), what it would feel like if he were here to hold her.

The memories scratched at her all day, constantly. It was a smile, an old t-shirt that he had long forgotten bout (About), a text that she should have deleted but she couldn’t. It happened a million times a day, and she just grew so exhausted from fighting him all the time – fighting, that is, to not call him, to not drown in his memories – because Lord knows, he never would have thought to fight for her.
We used to be so in(space)love, she thought as she stared up at the ceiling; it’s crazy to think that we aren’t anymore.

::

Sometimes, on her darkest days, she wondered if it would ever get better. If there would ever be a point where she wouldn’t fall to pieces at the thought of him, if she wouldn’t stare at her cell phone and will it to ring. It was devastating to be in love with someone who had forgotten you like you (you like you feels a bit clunky) ever even existed.
She didn’t understand.

::

It took her a minute when she woke up in the mornings, to remember the events that had transpired, to remember that he wasn’t hers to love anymore. (Aww I liked this line, tugged at me ol' heart strings) She would open her eyes, look over, wonder where he was for just a moment, just an instant long enough that she could feel the burn, the ache, when she remembered. (Feels a bit clunky. Maybe "She would wake up wondering where he was for just an instant long enough to feel the burning ache.")

She had loved him, and he had left her. She ran her fingers through her hair, stared at herself in the mirror. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering the courage to make it through another day. It was devastating to face the truth about the two of them and their inability to make this something that they could keep, to imagine that she wasn’t enough to make him stay, that he had never wanted her as much as she had wanted him.

It was the unkindest of cuts.

This really spoke to me as me and the other half have our rough patches and I often cut myself off emotionally to protect myself. I can only imagine this would be how she feels when I am looking out for number one. (Yes i'm a total git). I would never leave her though, love her too much... but I think some times I make it so she feels like your character in the last line.

I think there are some tense issues in the story but they are my weakest point in writing so I'm not going to try an fix them as I will probably be wrong.

Nice story, enjoyed it :)