Hi! My name is Toni and this is my blog on writing prompts. Sometimes inspiration strikes me anywhere, sometimes I badly need a jumpstart. This blog helps with those jumpstarts, when you need a little push. Hopefully the writing prompts open your mind further to new ideas and help encourage you into writing more. A little writing help never hurt!
You were too clingy. Like your whole world revolved around him. It was fine in the beginning of the relationship but a couple of months down and it felt like you were smothering him. He didn't care if you had so much love you wanted to snuggle him all day. He saw you as needy and so he flew into the arms of someone who resisted him. He liked the challenge.
You weren't sexually compatible. His needs were greater than yours and he satisfied it with someone else. Your headaches were too frequent. Your underwear turning granny-like. He tried looking elsewhere in secret and liked it. He didn't even have to beg.
You were too busy. He felt rejected when you would pull in late nights to study, preferring to bury your nose in a textbook than acknowledge him. He felt neglected. He felt he wasn't good enough. His insecurities acted up. He's a slacker at work and his girlfriend is getting her PhD. He begged you to get in bed but you buried your nose deeper in the textbook. That is why his needs became greater than yours. See previous paragraph.
Whatever the reason, this guy was just a plain old jerk. You're better off without him. Now quit crying on the couch and let's go get ourselves some dirty martinis.
In another life, I'd be in a brownstone. It would be nine am and I'd be running down the stairs while tyinga scarf around my neck, crossing my fingers I don't slip and strangle myself. My roommate would be finishing up her cereal in the kitchen, looking all zen as much as I look all frazzled.
I'd grab a frozen burrito from the freezer, heat it up in the toaster oven and munch on it as my roommate and I lock up behind us and head towards the subway. We'd talk about our plans for the day. Then we'd part ways as she goes one way and I the other.
In that other life I'd be working damn hard. No one would care if I had a degree in business management. I'd be a production assistant kissing ass, perfecting the cafe latte my boss wants every 10.30 am sharp. It would be The Devil Wears Prada only I wouldn't be in a fashion magazine -- just the third best paper in the city that nobody bothers to read.
Lunch would come and I'd sneak to the park with a burger in hand, bottled water in the other. On my lap would be my notebook where I would scribble ideas I'd have of the city, my future memoirs, my future bestselling novel. Dreaming is free, so I might as well dream big.
I'd be carried along with the flow of people going home, going to bars, going somewhere far, far away from work. I'd pick up my roommate from the coffee shop she'd be working in and off we'd go to grab dinner at the nearest convenience store. Cheetos is a meal, nicely paired with a red Chilean wine.
We'd sneak into one of those old buildings. We'd go to the rooftop with nothing but our cameras, our hopes, and a flask of brandy. It would only be then that we'd feel we can really make it big in the city.
Write about your relationship with your best friend.
I was always a little jealous of her. Okay, BIG jealous. She got the guys. She got the grades. She was beautiful, fair skinned, just an all-around angel.
I was always a little jealous of her. She indulged me with stories of shopping abroad. She told me stories of her secret romps with her boyfriend. She passed me notes during class on how she couldn't wait to hang out at the coffee shop after so we can talk more.
I was besotted.
I was always a little jealous of her.
I realized that I was becoming a fan girl. Or maybe I was one all along.
She never asked me about my stories. Never asked me what I was up to. Never asked me about my boys or the lack of them.
That was high school.
I'm the maid of honor at her wedding tomorrow. I'll be stuck in the background, holding her train, making sure she is as lovely as she always is, always should be.
Yeah, I'm a little jealous. But I live vicariously through my best friend.
Maybe I'll meet my own rich banker. Maybe I'll meet him in Paris too. Maybe I'll also be working at a top notch architectural firm.
Or maybe not. Maybe I'm just happy being here.
I'll find my own happy ending soon. For all I know, she may be a little jealous of me too.