View Full Version : Original Fiction: I'll Be Gone in the Morning

Lola Granola
07-31-2008, 06:26 PM
So I can't keep promises.

To Myself.

Because I keep on




Into what makes us blind.

Itís a funny little thing called love. A paradox, really. No one can explain what it is. No one can explain how it happens. It just does. It exists. It can be a blessing. It can be a disease. Love is a shape shifting anomaly enveloped in powers that can either destroy mortals or release them into the very abyss of heaven. How can these two very different results co-exist on such radical ends of a wide spectrum?

He is much older than me.

Do not tell me love is scientific. Donít try to use logic with me. I donít want to hear any of that "chemical" bull****. Love can be illogical. It is reckless. It is stupid. Love can be absolutely retarded. I cannot begin to exhaust the usage of anymore synonyms that can describe how fantastically idiotic such strong amorous affection can be. Is love always logical? Everyone knows the answer to that.

He has a child.

Is it worth it?


We fall. We learn. We get up. And then there are those of us who donít want to learn. We fall time and time again. We stay down because we never want to wake up and face reality. I have become addicted to his warmth. His arms. His touch. His lips. His love. Addicted. I spent my nights buried in his bed, drawing his life from his lips so that I can keep on living. I have become addicted to this dream.

He has another.

Is it worth it?

Is his love honest? Is it faithful? Is it real? It is real enough to make me believe, not strong enough to make me sure. Time has allowed us to spend a moment alone together. A moment.

Not forever.

But in this moment, he has treated me better than any man has. In this moment, he has been the best lover any woman could possibly desire. He has succeeded in capturing my heart, overcoming the most impossible obstacles of which I would have never allowed myself to succumb to such a man. But I have. He has won. And in the end I may be the loser. Eventually we will depart. Eventually his love will falter. Weaken. He will forget about our time. About me. He will return to another, and I will return to no one. No one can explain what it is. No one can explain how it happens. It just does. Iíve fallen in love, in the worst circumstances possible. He is a drug I cannot quit.

And I donít care anymore.

07-31-2008, 06:35 PM
I understand.

08-21-2008, 03:31 AM
This being written almost like poetry (and my having an extreme dislike for poetry), I found this very hard to read. You've written about love, which is something so universal that everyone can understand, so that helped. I can easily see the emotions your character was going through in order or all of that to have gone through her mind, you did that part extremely well. It also helped to develop what kind of person the protagonist was, which is always a plus.

The only small complain I can make is why the color change? It half makes sense, but half doesn't.