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Hey everyone! 

I'm proud to announce I'm awarding this community the "Most Helpful and Honest Feedback Award" out of anywhere else online I've visited. Back in 2021 when I published my first stories here I was a little bitch and anything but 24/7 glaze was a catastrophe to my fragile soul. However, time has passed, and I finally grew tf up and now I'm here asking for your searing but still constructive criticism yet again.

The story I'm sharing today is not a full story, or even a full rough draft. Its more like emotional, literary practice to help exercise my writer side. It is not meant to have a concise plot or a resolution, it's simply a short excerpt in which I'm trying to communicate the emotions of two characters as much as possible. "Why then," you may ask, "should I even waste my time reading it?" Well, that's ultimately up to you, but I would appreciate if you would at least give it a skimming.

Oh, and also, there are some run on sentences meant to reflect the narrator's confused and desperate mental state. If you're going to be pedantic about grammar, please do us all a favor and don't just flatly point out that there are run on sentences. I know there are. That's the point.

Anyways, enough preface. Here's the story:

 

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As Manuel's eyes look up to meet mine, all I can think about is how much I miss him. How much I need him. His hair falls back against his face and splits open like a curtain, revealing dark brown eyes that speak first of surprise, and then panic, and then, finally, desperation. They dart from side to side and then settle on me again—this time for good.

 

Back when we were together, I could read him like a book. Every glance was like a message; we could have entire conversations just by shooting looks at each other, snickering like misbehaved kids passing notes in class. We were so close, so connected. Now I feel so disconnected from him, almost like I don't know him. Almost as if he were a stranger. I search for a familiar, welcoming, loving look in those pools of chocolate, but find nothing but confusion and pain.

 

I'm not entirely sure what to say. There are lots of things I could tell him, but I can't assemble any words in my mouth. Emotion grabs my tongue and holds it as its prisoner.

 

Luckily for me, Manuel speaks first.

 

"What are you doing here." Asked like a question, but delivered with the cold, hard tone of a statement.

 

"I'm... Visiting town. I thought... Uh..."

 

He waits.

 

"I thought I should come see you." That raises an eyebrow. He doesn't say anything, though, which means I unfortunately have to find my words.

 

"Look, Manuel, I've been thinking a lot... Like a lot. And like, after we broke up I was really sad but I didn't miss you. But then, just... So many things happened wheb you weren't with me..."

 

I pause, hoping he'll say something. He remains utterly silent, his lips pursed. I don't want to have to tell him, to have to make him pity me, but the tears welling up behind my eyes push the words out of my mouth before I can think about it.

 

"My dad, was in a bad accident Manuel," I say, as tears fall down my cheeks. "And it's just been really hard living with myself after that because I think I could've done something, and, and, hearing that news just made me think about all the times you would comfort me, and how you would hug me, and tell me it was alright, and I just got to thinking much I needed you then, and how much I need you now." I say this all inchorerently and in sobs. I'm not sure he can even hear me. But his eyes meet mine in complete understanding, and for just a moment I can feel the connection we once shared. His glance shares the same feeling those hugs did. For a moment I just want to grab hold of him and never let go.

 

But then his eyes shift. And now I can't read him anymore. Now, all of a sudden, he isn't my Manuel. He's a different Manuel.

 

"I'm... Really, really sorry for you." He says, almost robotically. "But... This is just so much right now, especially after everything that happened... I just need to think, Kay. Can— can we meet here tomorrow? At like noon? We can talk then."

 

I want to tell him no, that we need to talk now, that if I try to hold it all in another night by myself I might just explode. But I don't want to scare him away, so I agree, and I get back in my car and I drive back to my hotel and I try to fall asleep.

 

The next day at noon couldn't come any slower. I wait near the cafe where he works for what feels like an eternity. I watch him through the windows as he dutifully prepares plates of croissants and scones and other foods I don't know the names of. He's always been a hard worker, but I've never seen him so locked in on what he's doing before. Maybe he's matured since I broke up with him, or maybe I'm imagining things. I'd like to think it's the second, that this is the same Manuel I knew.

 

When 12 finally comes, Manuel throws off his apron and shakes hands with someone I don't recognize. A girl. He claps her back and smiles his big wide smile at her, his black hair falling down the sides of his face and his little goatee curling around his mouth. I suddenly feel an intense jealousy for this girl, and I wish dearly that it was his hand on my shoulder instead. But then he walks out, and someone else walks in, and she kisses the guy who walked in, and I feel an immense sense of relief.

 

Manuel sees my across the street and jogs over to me. He looks more fit, more lean than before. I can't help but realize how much better he's doing now that I'm gone. I almost feel guilty for wanting him back, but the depth of my need for him is just barely enough to prevent that. When he walks up to me, he almost deflates, and it looks like he's a bit more warmed up to me than he was last night.

 

His eyes meet mine again, this time communicating a strong bravado and cool demeanor. Something deep in the mix of his irises, however, hints at a deeper insecurity. I look him up and down and try to analyze him as he sits down, but as soon as I start his body language shifts entirely and the insecurity disappears. He's probably prepared himself for this moment. I have not.

 

"Brutal shift, dude. Absolutely brutal."

 

"That's rough."

 

Silence. I hate the silence.

 

He speaks again. "So, uh, about your dad. What happened?"

 

Just the mention of my dad pushes me nearly over the edge, but I retain my composure. Somehow, I explain the details without collapsing into tears. I explain about the car coming head on, and how he swerved to try and avoid it but ended up going off the side of the road. About how at first they thought he was going to live but he secretly had an aortic dissection that killed him in his sleep. I say it all on the border of tears but I manage to finish everything before I dissolve into a crying mess.

 

When it inevitably does happen, though, Manuel's hands grab mine, and I bury my face into his chest. For a moment, he pulls back, but then he leans into it, allowing me to rely on him. I smell the scent of his cologne, and in an instant a wave of comfort washes over me. But as soon as my tears begin to slow down, he begins to sit up, pulling away at the earliest moment he can. I look up at him with desperate eyes, and rather than being welcome with a reassuring gaze I'm confronted with a confused expression. He doesn't seem to know what to do. It feels like he wants to comfort me, but it makes him so deeply uncomfortable he simply can't bear it. And for once, the words don't wait before they leave my lips.

 

"I need you, Manuel. I need you more than I've every needed anyone before. I'm sorry for everything I said, and everything I did, and everything I put you through. If I could go back in time and erase it all I would but I can't and it kills me. I just need to have you with me, I need you to help me. Please."

 

This sucks. I make more typos than a five year old and they're killing me because I missed them all.

You could've edited if you didn't reply to your own post.

You're right, but I'm a goddamn idiot so I did not.

It's okay, don't beat yourself up too hard. We all make mistakes.

We all make mistakes, but some of us are also idiots. 

Before I get into ripping this apart, please keep in mind I'm not very good at all this. I'm a noob and I'm trying.

Alright, I'll ignore all the SPAG errors because you pointed those out yourself. I know (hopefully) you're already aware that 'wheb' isn't a word commonly used in the English language. ^-^

A lot of the formatting in the sentence structure is clunky, for example, here:

 Now, all of a sudden, he isn't my Manuel. He's a different Manuel.

Okay. That's... Interesting. It gets the point across but feels like you were trying to force yourself to find words for the situation just to get to the rest of the story. Instead, a structure like this could be better.

In that instant, he's not my Manuel anymore.

See how nothing repeats unnecessarily? The point is, that happens a lot here, the writing is choppy and repetitive. I know you intended to use run on sentences, but something like this:

This is a sentence which runs on, this sentence keeps going, and then it continues.

Doesn't really work as well. Run-on sentences for the sake of the author's narrative tone should be adding new information, not repeating the same thing over and over and over and over again. The irony of this is that I've just done it in my review. It's a hard thing to master, but a good thing to learn how to get right. (Something which I have to consciously work on, too.)

I search for a familiar, welcoming, loving look in those pools of chocolate, but find nothing but confusion and pain.

No. None of that 'pools of ____' eye business. 'familiar eyes' work fine. I hate it when authors describe eyes as a food, or a biome, or whatever. It sounds like a 12-year-old writing what they think is a masterpiece on Wattpad, nobody wants that. Never describe anything that way again, for my sanity, please.

If I had to rate this on a storygame rating scale, I'd give it a solid 3/8. There's some good things to be had when expanded on, but as a stand-alone short story, it has numerous flaws.

This is what I love about cys. No glaze, just real criticism. I'll get to revising, this was all in one go so no refining whatsoever.

Okay! Requested brutal criticism incoming! Oh... wait, you said constructive criticism. Very well....

My thoughts:

This is good, in terms of emotional beats. My criticisms, one minor, one not minor:

Minor criticism (pedantic, as you requested not to be done): "I can't help but realize how much better he's doing now that I'm gone." I don't think people would refer to themselves in that way. "Now that I'm gone," I mean. Generally speaking, you're never gone, because you're always with yourself. Better to rephrase this to get the meaning across, in my humblest of opinions. Also, I'm not sure I would use the word "now" if your meaning is "out of his life," because the protagonist just slid right back into his life and is currently in it. Maybe "since I've been out of his life," or some much better way to say it.


Other criticism: As I said, the emotional beats are good, but this has a plausibility issue, in my even more humbled, humblest of opinions. I can't for the life of me imagine myself desperate to reconnect with a lost love so soon after my father died—even if that person was once someone who gave me comfort in tough times. Certainly not immediately. In the coming weeks or months, maybe. But in the immediate aftermath of the horror of losing a loved one? I just don't see it. I don't see romantic love, unrequited love, any kind of love not directly connected to the tragedy, being anything other than a hollow, meaningless waste to the grieving.

And it's not necessarily that I don't think someone would run to another person that once comforted them in trying times. But the protagonist seems to be interested in rekindling the romance. Granted, maybe I'm reading that wrong, but if your dad just died, I simply can't imagine that. Sure, maybe some deviant human would be trying to do that. But I figure most people would just be too emotionally devastated. They'd be going through the motions, listening to Funeral Home directors, answering a bazillion texts through blurry, teary eyes, standing there like an empty shell, failing miserably at processing what is happening, and all that stuff. (there's a verbose, maybe-run-on sentence for ya!)

The only exception to this, as far as I can tell, would be if that person was still in the protagonist's life—if the loss was partially shared by him or her. Maybe they weren't together, but they were still in the same social circles, still communicating. Otherwise, I just can't see it.



In summary: I LIKE the way you are describing the romantic loss, as a good first draft. Could you make it more visceral? Sure. Heartbeat fluttering, face flushing in some mixed amalgamation of shame, regret, hurt and fear of rejection. A burning nervousness as the tiny bit of hope the protagonist has beats against the steel wall of inevitable rejection, all of those kinds of things. But it's pretty good as it is, at least with that aspect of it.

But, right after the dad died? I just don't see it.

Thanks for the reply! For that sentence, I might just remove it entirely, it seems a bit too "tell" and I'm trying to show more. I hope that makes sense.

Anyways, yeah, the dad dying was honestly just something I came up with at the top of my head to give her a reason to need someone. But you're right, it's not really realistic. Maybe she just becomes really stressed and overwhelmed because she loses her job and her best friend blocks her or something like that.

Showing and not telling is wonderful advice. Sometimes, though, writing in first person makes that a little less of a problem, since the narrator is directly telling you about their life. I do agree with Flux, though. I will also (maybe?) return to this later and do an actual review/critique/unnecessary rambling. It doesn't look like too much reading, after all...

It COULD be on the edges of realistic if Manuel has still been in the picture this entire time. Recently perhaps as a "frenemy" maybe. Or just that he remained in her circle of friends but they are kind of estranged—see each other all the time, but barely speak. However, rekindling the romance would not be what Kay is after, not at first anyway. It would be comfort, assurance, that sort of thing. That would also require Kay and Manuel to have a very extensive romantic history. Even possibly formerly married (although from the gist I am assuming these characters are younger than that; so maybe off-and-on since sixth grade or something).

The one thing that I don't think works, in terms of realism though, is just the "I haven't seen you in ages and we aren't speaking and haven't been, but my dead just died and I want your cock inside me." I mean obviously I'm doing the extreme here, but you get my message. I think you can do the dad died thing, but only if (a) they aren't so fully separated that it's exceptionally awkward just speaking and (b) she's not after him romantically, she's after a safe space.

If I had to give you advice, it would be to reread your work aloud. It is a reliable way to catch typos and will also help you catch sentences that don't flow well. Me personally, I try to avoid repeating the same word.

"We were so close, so connected. Now, I feel so disconnected from him-"

Rather than relying on the word connected again, you could rewrite it as something like:

"We were so close, so connected. But the link we had before seemed to be severed now, and I was the only one holding on to the frayed ends."

Like Lim said, each sentence should provide a new idea. Avoiding repetition of words will help enormously with that.

As for the actual story, it's a decent snippet. I can't really comment too much on whether it makes sense because there obviously seems to be things that have been left out. The reason that Kay and Manuel broke up would be a pretty important part to explain if you want us to understand Manuel's reaction. The emotions that have made it into the story seem to be represented well enough that I have an idea about what these two characters are feeling. So I'd say that part's done pretty well.

In summary, reread your work and avoid repetition of words and you should be fine.