Ok this is something I just wrote, so it is very raw and unfinished. I'm working on my story about Paul. If you know nothing about it, then this might not make much sense to you. It's a story that switches between the narrative of here and now, being separeted from his wife and out of touch with is grown up children and alienated from much of a social life, and flashbacks to him and his wife falling during and/or soon after college. What I wrote today is a flashback. To the death of somebody very close to Laurie (Paul's wife). I'm trying to capture, the pain, shock, chaos, and disorder to the situation, whilst making Paul's character a little more dynamic, but I'm not sure how it's working. Again, this is very much a work in progress, but I would appreciate any sort of criticism.
Paul squeezed Laurie’s hand. For the first time in a long time He had no idea what to do. He hoped maybe if he squeezed hard enough, the tears wouldn’t come. Too late.
They sat together, alone, feeling infinitesimal in the largeness of the cramped room and the situation. Paul had never had to deal with death. He had never really had to deal with anything. He put his arm around Laurie. He wanted to say something—anything to make it better, but he had no words.
He dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and his hand wove its way through the maze of her hair to dab at her wet cheeks. She slowly closed her fingers around his. He held her close and sighed at his own helplessness. He felt every ounce of her pain yet was strangely disconnected. He had never met the man, only heard stories. Many stories. He continuously tried to grasp the finality of the situation, but repeatedly could not.
“Is there anything I can get you?” He whispered. She shook her dark blond curls from where they had burrowed in his chest. They sat for a very long time. He lost track. He had a wet spot on his shirt from her tears, but she didn’t seem to notice. The tears continued. The phone was still on the floor where she had dropped it and he had caught her as she collapsed upon hearing the news. He gently leaned over, picked it up, and neatly placed it on the corner of the newspaper on the corner of the table.
Order. Paul could deal with order. He could handle life when things happened at a reasonable and predictable time and fell correctly into the routine. He wanted to take hold all of the chaos and strange unfamiliar feelings and compartmentalize them into logic and reason and force them to make sense. Permanent. Gone. Forever. A million questions rushed though his mind in a strange and unreasonable order. What will they do with all of his clothes? Will her mother be alright? Can’t they predict things like this? Why now? I thought people could survive heart attacks. Does her mother have enough money to live on her own? Will the family make it? Do his coworkers know? What will they do? How do businesses handle this kind of thing? Will they give everyone time off to grieve and recover, or will they have a meeting to discuss the loss, take a moment of silence for him, and then move on to business as usual? Will Laurie be able to keep her job? Who will walk her down the aisle when she gets married? Will he go in heaven? Does God look kindly upon those who have fallen, yet raised daughters with a love like his own? Does God even exist? How could a loving God let these things happen?
His questions turned to anger. Why he leave her? Why does it hurt her so much? Why did they have to be so damn close? He had been her guide, her protector. Didn’t he know someday he would have to leave her? Why did he make it so difficult?
He gently combed his fingers through her messied hair. He took a sip of her untouched tea on the table. It had grown cold. The light in the room had faded with the daylight and he realized by her breathing that Laurie had fallen asleep. For the first time he realized how exhausted he was after the last few hours. Afraid to disturb her, he leaned back on the couch that swallowed them both. He shut his eyes to rest for just a few minutes.
Hours later, he awoke to her whispering in her sleep. “Daddy, Daddy, where have you gone?” He gently rubbed her arm, wishing he could rub the pain away. Erase it. Gone. When her breathing returned to normal, he got up, quietly washed out her mug and put it on the drying rack. He grabbed a blanket from her room and brought it to her. She half sat up, still mostly asleep, and he resumed his previous position. He covered her with the blanket and dozed off again.
If you can't tell, the death is her father. I like leaving it slightly ambiguous. I think I'll change his internal dialogue, the questions. I don't quite like them. They don't seem quite random or organized enough. Maybe that's ok. I'm not sure. I've never dealt with such a degree of loss, so I'm not sure I'm on the right track here, but I did a little research on grief, and i know each case is different, so there's no exact right answer.
It's strange how invested I get in my stories. I got really sad while I was writing this and I felt so sorry for Laurie! Strange how something you create can affect you so deeply. It made me think about how much I value my own parents.
Like I said, feedback is welcome.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
14 Ways to Say I Love You
Inspired by Chelsea’s Image Notebook entry, “14 ways to use a bandana”
1. We met in a corn maze on a cool night in October. It was really an accident that we were together. I liked the feel of your name on my lips. You and your friends made me laugh. You laughed at me when I got scared, which irritated me slightly, but I was having too much fun to care. I clung to you when they jumped out at me, and though neither of us would admit it, we both knew you secretly loved it.
2. She tried to play matchmaker but we didn’t need her, though we both thought we did. We didn’t really know what was going on and couldn’t see it happening before our eyes.
3. You came to the emergency room with me. She drove, but you stayed there, held my hand, told me it would be ok. We didn’t know what made me so sick. We still don’t know. You combed your fingers through my unwashed hair and told me to get some rest, that you would be here when I woke up. You held my hand while I slept. We weren’t even dating at that point.
4. We went on a walk at the mall together, in the pouring rain, the sky dark and beautiful. We got coffee and you paid, which wasn’t quite ok because it wasn’t a date. To this day, Starbucks croissants remind me of that first not-date with you. You told me I was amazing. When I sang in the old train station, you told me I had a beautiful voice. When we got back all the girls were squealing and asked me what happened. I told them we hung out. We got coffee. They said it was a date. I said it wasn’t. They asked if you paid. I was sunk.
5. You invited me on the drive to go pick her up so we could all hang out. I told you I would if you played in the snow with me. She was late so we got coffee. I paid because you paid last time. It started snowing again. You still didn’t understand my ecstasy because you were used to snow. I ran outside to the parking lot and opened my arms to the snow. You waited a moment then walked to where I stood, face turned to the sky, blinking the wetness away. You brushed a snowflake off my cheek. I thought you might kiss me.
6. “So I was going to get you a dozen roses for Valentine’s Day, but that was just so stereotypical, so I didn’t.” Pause. “I got you two dozen.”
7. You taught me how to longboard, or at least the basics. Then I taught myself the rest. I kept the one we borrowed and never gave back. You bought your own and we longboarded to class together, when we could, which wasn’t very often since I had 8:30 classes and yours weren’t until 10:45 or noon. And then there were the days we just longboarded for fun—like your birthday, and that crisp fall evening when we watched the sun set as we carved down campus. We weaved around the stadium parking lot until the train came.
8. I remember 5 days after we met. We were both bored, but we had hung out the day before, so we figured one day apart wouldn’t do too much harm. These were the days before Facebook chat. I was quite content that my entire wall consisted of your comments and yours of mine. Finally one of us called the other and we talked on the phone for over 2 hours.
9. We were going to meet at a train station. I would be getting off and you had biked. We were going to walk to your house. I had remarked on the phone that I needed to stop at the store to buy toothpaste. After I got off and after you hugged me, you produced two toothpaste packages and asked me which one I wanted because you had supposedly needed some too. After recounting this story to a friend, she said you and me could make toothpaste romantic. I told her it’s the little things in life that matter.
10. You bought me skis for Christmas and my birthday. I bought you skis for your birthday. My skis were wide for skiing Utah powder. They had swirling flowers, bright colors, and they were neon green on the bottoms. Your skis were good for all around skiing, but especially parks. They had snowflakes on the tops and naked girls on the bottom. The internet site where I bought them neglected to mention that.
11. You drove hours and hours to see me. 14 hours each way to pick me up in Tahoe. 6 and a half hours to drop me off, drive home, come visit, go back home, come pick me up, and bring me home from Zion. You rode 22 hours on a Greyhound to come visit me at home, and then shortly afterword vowed to never touch a Greyhound again, unless it was an actual racing dog.
12. When I was broke for two months, you paid for everything for me. You NEVER let me pay for anything besides my own groceries, unless I beg or it’s agreed to ahead of time, and even then you always ask me if I’m sure. I hardly ever open doors for myself either. And when I go to bed and you’re telling me goodnight I always ask if you’ll do me “a really big favor.” And you always get me a glass of water.
13. I still remember the nights we told each other our deepest darkest secrets. My former eating disorder and your former addiction. Now you tell me I’m beautiful, and when I don’t believe you, you grab my shoulders, tell me to look you in the eyes, and you tell me I’m the most beautiful girl in the world and that you’re the luckiest guy to have me. That night way back when, you thanked me for still loving you after knowing. I asked how could I not?
14. You love me in an unconditional way that I’ve never quite understood. In two years we had one fight and I openly admit it was all my fault. You do things for me all the time. You always put me first. You swing dance with me because you know it makes me smile. You buy EasyMac Alfredo even though you don’t like it and keep it at your house for me because it’s the only remotely vegetarian thing I would find there. You give me your jacket when it’s cold. You kiss me in the rain. You hold me close when there’s thunder outside. You call me just to tell me you love me. You buy me flowers because they remind you of me. You love me for me, and there’s nothing more that I could ask, except for maybe a really big favor.
1. We met in a corn maze on a cool night in October. It was really an accident that we were together. I liked the feel of your name on my lips. You and your friends made me laugh. You laughed at me when I got scared, which irritated me slightly, but I was having too much fun to care. I clung to you when they jumped out at me, and though neither of us would admit it, we both knew you secretly loved it.
2. She tried to play matchmaker but we didn’t need her, though we both thought we did. We didn’t really know what was going on and couldn’t see it happening before our eyes.
3. You came to the emergency room with me. She drove, but you stayed there, held my hand, told me it would be ok. We didn’t know what made me so sick. We still don’t know. You combed your fingers through my unwashed hair and told me to get some rest, that you would be here when I woke up. You held my hand while I slept. We weren’t even dating at that point.
4. We went on a walk at the mall together, in the pouring rain, the sky dark and beautiful. We got coffee and you paid, which wasn’t quite ok because it wasn’t a date. To this day, Starbucks croissants remind me of that first not-date with you. You told me I was amazing. When I sang in the old train station, you told me I had a beautiful voice. When we got back all the girls were squealing and asked me what happened. I told them we hung out. We got coffee. They said it was a date. I said it wasn’t. They asked if you paid. I was sunk.
5. You invited me on the drive to go pick her up so we could all hang out. I told you I would if you played in the snow with me. She was late so we got coffee. I paid because you paid last time. It started snowing again. You still didn’t understand my ecstasy because you were used to snow. I ran outside to the parking lot and opened my arms to the snow. You waited a moment then walked to where I stood, face turned to the sky, blinking the wetness away. You brushed a snowflake off my cheek. I thought you might kiss me.
6. “So I was going to get you a dozen roses for Valentine’s Day, but that was just so stereotypical, so I didn’t.” Pause. “I got you two dozen.”
7. You taught me how to longboard, or at least the basics. Then I taught myself the rest. I kept the one we borrowed and never gave back. You bought your own and we longboarded to class together, when we could, which wasn’t very often since I had 8:30 classes and yours weren’t until 10:45 or noon. And then there were the days we just longboarded for fun—like your birthday, and that crisp fall evening when we watched the sun set as we carved down campus. We weaved around the stadium parking lot until the train came.
8. I remember 5 days after we met. We were both bored, but we had hung out the day before, so we figured one day apart wouldn’t do too much harm. These were the days before Facebook chat. I was quite content that my entire wall consisted of your comments and yours of mine. Finally one of us called the other and we talked on the phone for over 2 hours.
9. We were going to meet at a train station. I would be getting off and you had biked. We were going to walk to your house. I had remarked on the phone that I needed to stop at the store to buy toothpaste. After I got off and after you hugged me, you produced two toothpaste packages and asked me which one I wanted because you had supposedly needed some too. After recounting this story to a friend, she said you and me could make toothpaste romantic. I told her it’s the little things in life that matter.
10. You bought me skis for Christmas and my birthday. I bought you skis for your birthday. My skis were wide for skiing Utah powder. They had swirling flowers, bright colors, and they were neon green on the bottoms. Your skis were good for all around skiing, but especially parks. They had snowflakes on the tops and naked girls on the bottom. The internet site where I bought them neglected to mention that.
11. You drove hours and hours to see me. 14 hours each way to pick me up in Tahoe. 6 and a half hours to drop me off, drive home, come visit, go back home, come pick me up, and bring me home from Zion. You rode 22 hours on a Greyhound to come visit me at home, and then shortly afterword vowed to never touch a Greyhound again, unless it was an actual racing dog.
12. When I was broke for two months, you paid for everything for me. You NEVER let me pay for anything besides my own groceries, unless I beg or it’s agreed to ahead of time, and even then you always ask me if I’m sure. I hardly ever open doors for myself either. And when I go to bed and you’re telling me goodnight I always ask if you’ll do me “a really big favor.” And you always get me a glass of water.
13. I still remember the nights we told each other our deepest darkest secrets. My former eating disorder and your former addiction. Now you tell me I’m beautiful, and when I don’t believe you, you grab my shoulders, tell me to look you in the eyes, and you tell me I’m the most beautiful girl in the world and that you’re the luckiest guy to have me. That night way back when, you thanked me for still loving you after knowing. I asked how could I not?
14. You love me in an unconditional way that I’ve never quite understood. In two years we had one fight and I openly admit it was all my fault. You do things for me all the time. You always put me first. You swing dance with me because you know it makes me smile. You buy EasyMac Alfredo even though you don’t like it and keep it at your house for me because it’s the only remotely vegetarian thing I would find there. You give me your jacket when it’s cold. You kiss me in the rain. You hold me close when there’s thunder outside. You call me just to tell me you love me. You buy me flowers because they remind you of me. You love me for me, and there’s nothing more that I could ask, except for maybe a really big favor.
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