~Noroz' Original Stories~

Discussion in 'Archives' started by Noroz, Sep 29, 2011.

  1. Noroz I Wish Happiness Always Be With You

    Apr 3, 2011
    I decided to make a collection thread for my original stories, and another one for my stories.

    I will leave my newest story/letter/memo out of a spoiler.

    My newest;

    A Letter to Myself

    A Letter to Myself

    I’m trying to write a poem, but it ends up as nothing more than a train wreck. I attempt to conjure these meaningful, deep words to impress. I attempt to create something out of nothing, and it can’t be done. I’m stuck. I’m looking for inspiration. It’s a vicious circle. My inspiration is usually the one I want to impress. But in order to gain inspiration, I will first need to impress.

    It’s odd. When I was younger, I could write about a girl I could only see from afar; her beautiful eyes, her gorgeous body, and the attractive sway in her walk. As you grow older, at least for me, you learn to strive for more than only outer beauty. It doesn’t necessarily matter how she looks, or thinks, as long as she loves you for what and who you are.

    I realize this is wrong, but you need warmth, you need the sense of comfort with the one your with. I lack this now. I have it with whomever I may fall in love with. I have it with some of my friends, the few that I have. I have many friends that only an electronic device can project to me. I enjoy spending time with them, I cherish them. Please, do not misinterpret this, but they cannot provide the comfort and warmth you and I need.

    I’m ranting again, because the poet in me is dead. If not dead, at least starving. I may be able to resurrect it someday. I hope that someday is soon, because there’s a void, deep inside, that feeds on my spirit. It’s hard to explain, really. Even though I believe most people have experienced it. I mean, I’m a fool, when I see how trivial hardships bring me, an adult, down. Still, unfortunately, it does.

    I like seeing myself as an optimist though. I believe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The pessimist in me, however, is wary. It feels as the pessimist in me is poking the optimist in the side, telling him to get the fuck off the tracks, because a train is coming.

    Maybe there is a train coming. Who knows? Maybe it will hit me, and the void I feel inside will have consumed my spirit, leaving me empty. It’s a possibility. But is this only due to lack of inspiration? Is it simply the fact that I can’t go back to where I was as a child, and find inspiration in simply outer beauty? I don’t want to go back to that time. Sure, maybe it was fun. At times. However, I refuse to convince myself that I am unable to find inspiration.

    That can’t be it. I won’t allow it to be. I don’t find it difficult to tell myself this. I know this. I’m simply having a very difficult time convincing myself. Because there is a difference. I can tell myself to believe something I don’t want believe but it won’t matter. Unless I am able to convince myself, there is no need pretend. Unless I deep down, believe, there is no reason. I’m trying to convince myself that there will, someday, be someone to inspire me.

    I’m trying to convince myself that there is not a train coming towards me, but that the light is in fact someone who looks at me in awe as I sing for her. Someone who looks at me, just for the pleasure of looking at her inspiration. Someone who looks me in the eyes as we make love, and tells me that I inspire her.

    Then again, I might be wrong. This doesn’t even have to do with love at all. Maybe all I need is a new friend? Perhaps not. All I really can do is wait, isn’t it? Or can I, as a matter of fact, take matters into my own hands and make a friend or gain, instead of find inspiration? Am I the one controlling the light, or is someone else in control of it? I don’t really know. I want to convince myself that I am in control of it. Don’t try to convince me to believe something I don’t. It’s up to me. I need to man the fuck up and seize the day. I must conquer the light; make it do my bidding. Enslave it.

    All I need to do now is to convince myself that I can.

    “What could have been.”
    “If only.”
    These are all thoughts going through my head. I’m sick to my stomach, even if it has been two years. Two years, can you believe it? Two fucking years, and I still get sick to my stomach. I’m pathetic.

    I guess I should start by introducing myself. My name is Petter. This is my real name, not a persona or some mumbo-jumbo bullshit. This is my story, and I am the narrator. My name will be the only real name used.

    Back to the story we go. Two years ago I had a good life. Relatively. I had a girlfriend living overseas. I am Norwegian, and lived, naturally in Norway at the time. You might wonder how it happened, and before you jump to conclusions, it wasn’t an online relationship. She was an exchange student for a year, one thing lead to another and I had a girlfriend. If my memory serves me right, it was early January. I believe the 3rd or something like that. That date is not really of importance, all that matters is that we had a relationship filled with passion, love, bumps, and eventually, lovemaking.

    Love. We loved each other. We still love each other. Only… not like that. I consider her my best friend. Sounds somewhat pathetic, doesn’t it? “Yeah, my best friend is my ex-girlfriend whom I am still in love with.” As I just said, I am still in love with her. I think. It might only be an obsession, but I guess there is no way of knowing that. I love her till death, you know? But I want to die with her. I want to die before her, but I want to know that my love is not the one way street it seems to be now.

    Thing is, I really want her to be happy. I love her, and because I love her, I want nothing but happiness to come to her. I don’t want her to shed a single tear, unless it’s from laughing. She means the world to me. I am 20 years old. I’m born and raised Norwegian, lived 19 years in the same little town. When I was 17, I met her. Let’s call her Casey. In my tiny town, I met an American exchange student whom would change my life.

    When I was 13 I had my life planned out. I was going to get a master’s degree at the local university in Computer Science, live at home until I had received my degree, move out and live out a life with children and a wife.

    This plan met a challenge at 17. A detour, if you may. I met this American girl and we fell in love. Before she left for the US, we spent a weekend together in Oslo, the capitol of Norway. It was an amazing weekend where we just hung out, made love, ate some food, watched some TV and made love. Then the weekend ended. After going through security, our road’s split. She headed to the right towards international flights, and I headed left to local flights.

    Have you ever looked into the tear-filled eyes of someone you love and cherish, as you know you won’t be able to see this certain someone in at least 5 months? I hope for your sake you haven’t. It’s the worst feeling I can recall. It was even greater when I went to visit Casey in November the same year. I had spent two amazing weeks with her and I had to go back. I walked through security, it seemed as an infinite stream of tears fell down my face. Thank heavens that I had my sunglasses that I wore after I got through security. I felt like an idiot where I stood. 18 years old, a man for God’s sake, crying like a child who has lost his mother. It was during this trip I decided; I was going to move to the US because I loved Casey.

    I realize now, that it is not unmanly to cry. It’s not unmanly to love. I realized that the reason the tears refused to stop flowing was simple, yet so inexplicably complex at the same time. It was love. I had never felt love as strong, and I have not felt love as strong since.¨
    It’s now January of 2010. I went on a ski-trip with some of my friends. Both guys and girls. I noticed a girl who happened to be interested in me. We got to talking and I quite enjoyed talking to her. However, I did have a girlfriend so I didn’t do anything. I loved Casey too much.
    Eventually though, this new girl, whom I’ll call Emily, started hanging out with me more and more. I realized that something was going to happen, so I went into a few months of thinking. I got distant from Casey, as I was insecure of what to do.

    Then I received a call from Casey.

    After a bit of small talk, I heard the words that still tear me up to this day.
    “Petter, I don’t want to be in a relationship where you are like you are now.” I can’t believe what I answered. “Yeah, I know.” I didn’t want to hurt her, and I didn’t want to cheat on her. (I’d like to point out that I am actually fighting tears as I’m writing this.)
    After a bit of back and forth, we hung up. She was more shook up than I was. More than I appeared to be. I’m quite good at hiding my emotions. I don’t really know why I do it, but fuck it for now.

    Now that Casey and I had broken up, there was nothing keeping me from being with Emily. So after a while, I was shook up and broken for a bit, I got together with Emily. I guess you can say she got me on the rebound, because I sure as hell needed someone.
    After a while, however, she decided that we shouldn’t keep on what we did. Why? Because I was going to move to the US for College. Ironic, isn’t it? I gave up my American girlfriend for nothing. I gave the love of my life (at least thus far) because I found a girl interesting and didn’t want to cheat on my girlfriend.

    That. Is. Pathetic.

    I decided to come clean. I don’t know what I stupidly attempted to do, but I sent Casey an e-mail explaining it all. I think I wished for her to understand.
    She didn’t.


    After we both moved a bit on, we started talking again. On a regular basis, even. I didn’t get to see her physically though, until April 17th, 2011. A friend of mine and I went to the US and spent 6 days in NYC and some days at my current University, the University of North Dakota. Anyhow, while still in NYC, my friend and I took a bus for 5 hours up till Boston to meet her and be with her for 7 hours, then take the 5 hour bus trip back the same day. She was as amazing as ever. I was almost 20 then, and I had matured a lot, so it was not as difficult to say goodbye this time. Also, I knew I was going to the US soon anyway. My mind was set on the US, regardless of Casey.

    Now let’s go to about where I am now. Today is the 30th of August. A week ago, Casey told me her love life was going well. She asked me how mine was first of course. My love life is non-existing as of right now. I don’t really want anyone. I need someone, I need Casey. It’s not a matter of want. I want her to be happy, but I need her. Today I learned the name of the one who has the honor of calling her his girlfriend.

    It made me sick. My muscles tensed. I should be the one with the honor of calling her my girlfriend. In some years I should have the honor of calling her my wife.
    But I guess life never really turns out the way you want it to.

    My obsession with Casey is not her problem. It’s mine. I’ll have to work my way through it, no matter how many tears it will take.

    I want her to know that I love her. I want her to know I want her to be happy. I don’t want her to shed a single tear, unless it’s from laughing. I want her to know she changed my life. She changed my life in a manner no one else ever could have. With you, Casey, I grew. I changed. I matured. I decided. I cried. I laughed. I tried. I failed. I succeeded. More than anything I loved. I still love. I will always have room for you. I will always love you.

    I don’t really know what I want to do with this. I think all I want to say to you is this;
    Thank you for changing my life to the better. I will forever be grateful, and if you ever find out that you still love me the way you used to, please do not hesitate to see me. I will be there.

    From My Head To My Hands
    Don’t worry, honey.”​

    Day is feeling nervous, like he always does when meeting new people. He knew that he was going to share a room with this guy for two years. All he knew about him was that his name was John and that he is transferring from another school. Day doesn’t really like people that much, but he unfortunately didn’t get a one-person single room. He sat alone, in the same spot he’s been sitting in for an hour already just thinking about whom the hell he can expect to meet.

    It’s been a while.” ​

    The door finally opens. Day can’t believe his eyes. “Is it really you?” he asks. “What do you mean me?” John asks, his face covered by a box full of recording equipment. John puts down the box and looks at Day when he suddenly realizes; “Holy ****! Day, is that you?” “Hell yeah dude, it’s me.” They both realized that the world is small, just like everyone told them it was. Day and John are both overjoyed about being each other’s room-mate. They talk for several hours about what they have done and what they are planning to do. Nothing remarkable has happened while they were apart, John says sincerely while Day says the same, but lies about it.

    “Man, it’s been too long” John says.
    “Yeah man. Wanna go grab something to eat?”
    “I just gotta set up base first, wanna give me a hand?”
    “Sure bro.” After helping John get all his belongings in place, they head out to eat.
    “Where you wanna go?” Day said.
    “Well, I’m not very familiar with this place, so how ‘bout you choose the best place you know, I just want something cold though, not hot food.”
    “Alright, I know the perfect place.” They walk to the other side of the campus, a fifteen minute walk.
    “Check it out John, best place to eat lunch ever!” John orders a baguette with ham and cheese while Day gets a roast beef sandwich.

    When Day and John sit down at a table, they see Iren and Jen are sitting there. They had both ordered the same; Latté with Hazelnut extract and two scoops of ice cream, one liquorish and one fruit flavored. The latté is quickly consumed. The ice cream, however, is being thoroughly enjoyed and only eaten in the brief pauses in their conversation.
    Day finds Iren very attractive. She has long brown hair and green eyes. She’s wearing a low-cut dark grey sweater with a black singlet underneath, her jeans are black and tight. The jeans are plain except for a rift on her left thigh revealing only a little bit of tan skin.
    Day doesn’t think Jen is as attractive. She has blonde hair, but not nearly as pretty as Iren’s. Jen’s hair is long and straight. She’s wearing a strange gray scarf with some type of pattern in it. It’s ugly. She is wearing a shirt with many colors forming squares. Red, green, white, blue, purple and yellow. Her jeans are blue and loose stopped only by a pair of black leather boots.

    The girls just finished their ice cream. Iren seems to be the talkative one, while Jen is the receiver. “Did you see the show Death Note I told you about?” Iren asked enthusiastically. “I was going to, but my boyfriend and I were going to catch a movie, so I had to go, like, 10 minutes into the first episode,” she replied with indifference in her voice. “Well, you should see it, it’s really good.” Iren uses a lot of body language when she speaks.

    “What are you doing?”

    Iren spots Day and smiles at him. “Dude, that girl is totally checking you out!” John said enthusiastically. “I know, she always does,” Day replied with lack of enthusiasm. Day and John continued talking, and Day told him about his past girlfriend he had three years ago; the girl who suddenly disappeared, without a message, note or anything. He also explained how he wasn’t over her yet. However, John convinced Day that he had nothing to lose, and might as well go over to the girls and ask Iren out.


    Day goes over to Iren and Jen. “Hey, what’s up?” Day said, sounding strangely confident, even though he’s supposedly shy. “Hi there,” Iren replied with a beautiful smile. “Alright, I might seem a little forward, but I just have to tell you, I think you’re very beautiful and I was wondering if you’d like to go grab a cup of coffee or something to bite someday.” John sits at the other table speechless. Iren sits equally surprised but is able to mumble out “s- sure.” “Great, here is my number, let me know when it works for you.” Day says and goes back to John. “How the hell did you do that?” John asked. “I just did what you told me to, nothing else.” “I thought you were shy though, what happened?” “I don’t know, I just went with it.”

    “Don’t do that!”​

    Two days pass before Day receives a phone call from Iren. They decide to meet at 6 P.M. to get some dinner. Day doesn’t really know what to wear, but he decides to go with his normal look; He wears a grey hoodie under a black shirt, with black jeans and with his black hair ruffed up with bangs parted to the left. Iren doesn’t live on campus so Day decides to drive to pick her up, even though it’s a nice evening. “Alright John, I’m going to pick up Iren now, see ya later.” “Alright Day, have fun! Let me know how it was, leave no details out.”
    “Dumbass” Day said, smiling, as he closed the door.

    “Where are you going, honey?”​

    “Hey Day, how are you?” Iren said, opening the door. She was wearing a beautiful black and white dress that seemed to be taken right off the red carpet. It was a little loose and just went down to her knees. Her tan shoulders were exposed and her picturesque, pale face lit up the porch along with her long, curly brown hair, with her bangs parted to the right covering her right eye.
    “I’m great Iren. How are you? You look beautiful.”
    “Thanks Day, I couldn’t be happier, at least now that you are here, and I must say, you don’t like too bad either!”
    “He-he, thanks” Day said, sincerely.
    They decide to go to The Inn; an expensive but great restaurant an hour away.

    When Day and Iren get to the restaurant, they are shown to a table in the middle of the room. Day asks if they can get a table next to a wall instead; Day doesn’t like not having his back against a wall. The waiter seems confused, but shows them to another table. Day orders Kobe Beef while Iren orders a Caesar Salad. Day remembers that Caesar salad was what his ex used to order. They both enjoy their meal, but Iren can’t help but notice how Day is watching over his shoulders every now and then, even with his back against the wall. “Relax, Day, your back is against the wall, no one’s behind you.” She says smoothly. “Oh, yeah, I know, sorry.” Day replies. Iren asks Day if he wants to do something after they leave the restaurant. Day seems distant but replies that he would, but he doesn’t know what. Iren says she wants to take a drive somewhere, which Day agrees to, still distant.

    At 11 P.M they walk to the car. “Where should we g –” Iren is interrupted by a kiss from Day. Iren is caught by surprise, but is suddenly filled with joy; the boy she has had a crush on for a year is finally kissing her. From being tense, her body suddenly loosens up, releasing an entire month worth of tension. After a minute their lips break apart. “You were saying?” Day says, sounding rather unaffected by what just happened. “Never mind that, let’s go back to my place, my parents are out of town.” Iren says, unlike Day, sounding hypnotized by what just happened. “Sounds good” Day replies, getting into the car.

    When they get to Iren’s house, she grabs Days hand and nearly drags him up the walkway to the house. Iren swiftly unlocks the door and after they both are inside she locks it just as fast, only to kiss Day passionately. It all happened so quickly Day is struggling to follow what’s going on. His feet instinctively follow Iren into her parents’ bedroom. She’s already half-naked and Day is wondering how the hell he managed to do that, but he doesn’t care, because in front of him is the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. It seems that Iren is embarrassed, her face is a little red when she tells him not just to stand there and stare, but to join her. Once again they kiss, passionate as ever while undressing each other. Day seems to be nervous, but not because of Iren, he feels he is being watched. He suddenly becomes distant again, but is snapped out of it when he realizes both him and Iren are naked.

    The next day, when Day wakes up he turns to his side and realizes Iren is not there. He checks his watch and sees that it’s already 1P.M. “You’re finally up?” Iren walks into the room wearing Day’s hoodie. “Have you been up for long?” Day answers, confused. “I didn’t sleep… I figured that there was no need seeing as we… um, were up until 7A.M anyway.” Day is baffled, he had no idea they kept going for that long. He can’t remember anything after 2A.M. Iren bends down to kiss Day, hopefully wondering if he considers them to be a couple when Day says he has to go; he has plans with John today. Iren is disappointed, but asks him when they are going to see each other again. “Soon,” Day says with a voice that would scare most people, but Iren is far too happy to even notice it.


    On his way back Day is becoming more and more anxious due to the fact that he can’t remember anything from the night before. He didn’t have plans with John, but he had to get away. He had a similar dream again. It reminded him of the one he had three years ago, before the night it all happened. “The voice is there again, it’s not the same though. It changed. The voice changed. It’s not the same voice! That night. We did the same thing then. Three years ago. The same thing happened. No, it can’t be! I didn’t do it. It was the man. The man did that to me. He did it! It’s not my fault! What he did to me, it’s not my fault! She disappeared, I didn’t do it! I’m telling you, I didn’t do it!”


    When Day gets back to his dorm room, John is doing homework. “Day, are you just coming home? Ha-ha, my man! How was it?” John asked curiously. “That’s none of your ****ing Business!” Day shouted angrily at him. “Whoa dude, that was uncalled for.” John replied, petrified from the sudden mood change in Day. “No, I’m sorry man, I just feel sick. I’ll tell you all about it later, alright?” Day heartily apologized. “Sounds good, get some rest.” When Day finally managed to get his body into his bed he felt a sudden rage boiling within. He fought it with all his willpower, because he didn’t know where it came from, but he knew who to blame.

    After Day moved away from Washington to Boston, he changed schools and lost his friend, John. However , this was where he became the man he is today. He started learning several instruments, guitar, violin, piano and drums. His teacher’s name was Michael. This man changed Day’s life. Michael’s love for music and the instruments he played was something Day had never seen, but he was unfortunately intrigued by it. Learning to play instruments at school was not enough for Day, so he asked Michael for private lessons. Michael happily agreed to this, but for all the wrong reasons. Day was 13 years old when he started playing and 14 when the terror started. Michael was a talented musician but he did more than teach Day how to play instruments, he was also molesting him. Day was only 14 years old and so intrigued by Michael’s talent he was blind to what was really going on. As Day grew older, and the molestation grew into physical abuse as well, he started having night terrors. He would wake up, screaming, in the middle of the night.

    At the age of 16, Day started working out. At the age of 17, after three years of sexual abuse, and two years of physical abuse, he was finally strong enough to stop Michael. He didn’t only stop him, he destroyed him. He was capable of doing things not even Jack the Ripper could come up with. Michael’s body was never found, so people thought he simply disappeared. After this, Day carried a voice inside his head that would shout at him, it wasn’t just any voice; it was the voice of Michael. During these years, from the age of 13 to 17, Day had a girlfriend. Her name was Konstantine and she was what kept Day alive. Because of the sexual abuse Day went through, he was never really interested in sex, however, he loved Konstantine of all his heart and when she was ready, he wanted to make her happy. The summer of 2009, after Michael was gone, Konstantine decided she was ready to make love. Day agreed to make her happy, but he did not enjoy it. After they made love, Day woke up at noon the following day, and didn’t understand anything, he was outside. When Day looked at his hands, they were covered in blood. He didn’t know where the blood came from; the last thing he remembered was Konstantine and him inside the house. After Day cleaned his hands, he went to visit Konstantine, but she had disappeared, no message, no note, nothing. After this day, the only thing Day could do was to forget, but he didn’t forget, he suppressed everything, but it was still in his subconscious. The voice of Michael had finally disappeared; the only thing that remained was the voice of Konstantine, echoing in his mind.

    Day can still hear Konstantine’s voice, she usually tells him how much she cares and loves him still, but lately she has changed her mood. She keeps on asking him where he’s going, not to do things and so forth. “Day, why did you do it? Am I not enough for you? You’re a cheater! You know what you have to do Day, you have to get rid of her, we’ll live together forever – I’m still here. They won’t even miss her at all. Why do you treat her differently? Don’t you love me? Day? Day?! Listen to me, honey, you know what you have to do. Please, do it for me. I’ll repay you."

    Day wakes up from his dream. He doesn’t know where he is, he’s outside, at campus somewhere. He looks at his hands and he realizes they’re crimson. When he finally comes to his senses, he goes down to the river and washes off his hands and head back to his dorm room.

    “Hey John, sorry about yesterday, you know, I was tired” Day said when he came in the door “No worries man, I get cranky when I’m sick too. But how was the date? Judging from when you came back you got lucky.” John said enthusiastically waiting for an answer. “Well, you know John, when I do what I do, I do it well” Day said, smiling. “Hell yeah man, that’s how it’s done!” John went over to Day and high-fived him. “So when are you gonna see her again?” “I don’t know, we’ll see.”

    “It’s over, honey”

    The next day, Day was looking for Iren but couldn’t find her, so he decided to call her. No one picked up the phone. Day thought she might be sick or something, so he decided to let her call him instead, he left a voicemail. A week passed and no Iren was to be found, so Day decided to check out her house. When he finally got there and knocked on the door, a man answered. “Yes, who are you?” he said. “I’m Day, a friend of Iren. I have noticed she hasn’t been to school for a week and I wanted to see how she’s doing.” Day replied, being as polite as possible. “I’m sorry; we haven’t seen her for a week either. We have called the police and everything. She was home alone last weekend and well… she has simply disappeared.”

    What Makes a Love Story?

    There are many true stories out in the world, but you do know that most of them, no matter how true, always have the writer’s perception of what happened? I’ll tell you a story. It’s a true story, it did happen. It happened in 2009, the story I will tell is about my first trip to the US. I left Norway the 11th of November and arrived the same day. The flight is not important, so I’ll just skip that. I landed in Boston and I saw someone I hadn’t seen for 6 months, my girlfriend. It was very surreal, because I loved her so much. When I saw her, she was standing next to her mother; my girlfriend’s sparkling smile expressed all the things that went through my head the second I spotted her. Anyway, this story might be strange to understand for some people, because not everyone has had a long-distance relationship.

    My girlfriend, E, (at the time) is beautiful. She has dark hair, green eyes and is the perfect height. We have different opinions on things, but that doesn’t ever matter because when you love someone, you tend to ignore the differences. Though I don’t want to waste your time only writing about her, I want to write about my experience with the US. After landing in Boston and seeing my girlfriend, I drove with her and Kat (her mother), to New Hampshire, to look at the University of New Hampshire. Seeing the university was an absurd experience, I had never imagined a university could be so big; it was unlike anything I had ever seen, it seemed to be the size of the town where I grew up, granted where I grew up wasn’t very big. Though after having visited another university, I realize it was in fact not that big in comparison. We visited UNH of course not for me, but for E. She actually lived outside of Olympia, Washington at the time. She is actually a student at UNH now though, which is very understandable, it’s a beautiful campus and a very good school.

    After visiting UNH, our trip continued to California. We flew there via Arizona, where her mom continued to Washington, and we continued to the sunny California. When we got there, we were met by E’s grandmother, a very nice old lady. We drove from the airport to her grandparent’s apartment and spent a night there. The day after, we drove to her uncle’s house, where I met him, her aunt, and her two younger cousins. We were met with a very good meal and tons of hospitality. Here we actually spent three days. The first day we just watched a movie and relaxed, I was exhausted from my trip. The second day though, we spent in Disneyland and California Adventure land – two places that are awesome. I guess they are more or less the same park, only split in two so you need two different tickets in order to get in.

    Anyway, I had never really been to many amusement parks, and I had never taken any of the more “crazy” rides. I had for example never been on a big rollercoaster, but sure enough, I went on a couple here. I would never have gone on any of them if it wasn’t for E. She loves thrill rides, and I, being new to the experience, just went along with her – though I must admit, I was a bit nervous when I noticed that the rollercoaster had loops in it. But when we got in the rollercoaster, it was actually a lot of fun. I’ll add some cliché here, and say that our relationship was like the rollercoaster. Also, we went on the Hollywood Tower of Terror. This one I was also nervous about, being the chicken that I was. But after taking these thrill rides, I loved it. They are so much fun! I guess you can call it an experience that made me into what I am today.

    After spending the day at California adventure land and Disneyland, we slept once again at E’s uncle’s house. The next day, we left for Washington. It was her grandparents who drove us, and it took us two days. It was actually a fun drive, even though it took a while, I mean, I got to see a lot of California, and actually quite a bit of Oregon too! When we finally got to Washington though, we basically just fell asleep, and that was what we did that day – drove and slept. When I visited E, she had to go to school unfortunately, so I didn’t get to spend as much time with her as I wanted during the days, but it was ok, because I got to spend some quality time with her dog! A beautiful, huge, Great Pyrenees named Vivo, though E usually calls her boo-bear or something lovey-dovey like that. I can definitely see why, it’s a very lovable dog. It’s a lazy and very fluffy dog that you can’t help but love.

    When E came back from school one day, I remember she was really upset. She talked to me about why she was upset. “My swimming coach is a fucking idiot!” Yeah, she was very upset. Anyway, she continued to explain that the coach had screwed up registering her as a Varsity swimmer, so she only got registered as Junior Varsity. We talked, rented a movie, made food, put on the movie, “watched” the movie and just laid there. I remember that we just laid there and I held her in my arms. I just laid there and looked at her beautiful, pale, smooth skin as she closed her eyes to sleep and snuggled herself closer to me, I felt her warmth surround me even more than earlier.

    After 10 days in the amazing US, well, at least I found the few places I visited to be amazing, it was time for me to leave. When we drove to the SEA-TAC airport in Seattle, it was raining, the day was beautiful. I’m a fan of rain you see, and it wasn’t that heavy either which made it oh so perfect for our goodbye. The rain was falling as I held her face in my hands and kissed her passionately. We stood with tears in our eyes, as we said goodbye. Little did I know I wasn’t going to see her in real life until just two weeks ago*.
    I’m not sure whether this is a love story or not. To some people, it probably seems like a love story. To me, though… I don’t how I should characterize it. The story may seem like a typical love story where the guy loves the girl, and the girl loves the guy, and even though that’s true, I still think it’s more a story of my adoration of E, a one-way love. I don’t even know if this makes sense as I’m writing it. For it to be perfect, I would have to write it all over again. Actually, I don’t believe it could be perfect. Maybe to me it would be perfect, but not to others. I mean, this is a memory, not a love story, and to me – it’s perfect. To you, probably not.


    The past is not be present. Though be sure not to forget the past because what has been, has been. What happened, happened. Don't forget it, keep it in your heart and mind. If you long for the past; dream, hope and wish for it. Remember however, this is the present, the past is gone and it will never be restored. But whatever you do with your past, don't put it away and forget it. Store it, salvage it. For in the end, what but memories, does your life consist of?

    Making songs is not just all sunshine and happiness. By making music you can let out hate, anger, joy and sadness, whatever feeling it might be. I must admit that there have been, and still are times when I sit and play guitar just going with the flow that both laugh and cry, so I encourage you to learn an instrument. Actually you don't even have to do so, but try writing a song that means something to you. Because to me, music is life. Nothing has ever made me question what music means to me, and I will never, never abandon something that can bring me such joy and sadness at the same time
  2. Peace and War Bianca, you minx!

    May 25, 2007
    Cisgender Male
    I might as well comment on your work in its entirety.

    Your writing style is casual, but you attempt to add more to the situation at hand, for your audiences sake. Sometimes I think this might be too much, you should let the situation flow as it is, give us hints at the truth but you don't have to tell us everything.

    Your content is relevant to those who have loved and lost, and even to an extent, those who have never experienced it all. Making your situation personal adds credibility to your words. Your audience feels the emotional benefits because of it, the happy and sad times hit hard and reflect in the audience.

    But if I am to be critical... your subject matter is limited, your word choice is simple and may not always express the emotiveness you try to achieve, and when you have read one story you won't find much variety in the next.

    On a personal note, I feel sympathy and empathetic to your stories. I may not have experienced what you have but I feel it. And that is the best immersion a writer can give. I thank you for it. I'm glad writing is a good tool for your life.