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Write a story about somebody in love with someone from their past.

Posted in Romance on Mar 11, 2022

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✍️ 79 stories

The Boy in the Pink Tuxedo

Winner of Contest #137 🏆

I met the love of my life at someone else’s prom.He wasn’t my date.My date was a lovely young woman whose name I can’t remember. What I do remember is that her dress was blue the way Southern debutantes in movies always wear blue dresses. At least from the movies I’ve seen. It was blue, but not puffy, and I was grateful for that. I’m resistant to puffy. Puffy and poofy. I can’t tolerate either.We attended her senior prom together, because her boyfriend had just broken up with her the week before and she was heartbroken. The big night was a w...

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Remember Me

Submitted to Contest #137

I'm on my hands and knees, crawling across the front lawn of Eliza Prep. My new high school has mandatory uniforms, and I'm wearing one of their uncomfortably short skirts. My bare knees sting. All I really want is to get up, go home, and cry. But I'm way too freaked out—way too desperate—to stop."Are you bleeding?" His voice makes my heart leap. It's so familiar, and yet so achingly different after the five years we've spent apart. I revel in its deep timbre, savoring this moment that I've been dreaming of since I first found out we were mo...

65 likes 14 comments 14
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Not Some Juliet

Submitted to Contest #137

[Warning, contains mention of death of a loved one.]I stood staring at the sea foam green doors. The sea of students maneuvered around me like the flow of a river breaks to a jagged rock in its current. There is no way I can do this.I took a deep breath, C'mon, I thought, You have to do it. For him. He would have wanted you to carry on.Yet as I willed my feet to move, I remained stuck in place. It was here, I remembered, that we had hung out for the first time. We would meet outside of these doors before school and said goodbye here every da...

41 likes 25 comments 25
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Past Isn't Prologue

Submitted to Contest #137

In her whole life, Alison had never done a dishonorable thing. She never walked the path less taken—never gave in to her selfish desires until now. To be clear she wasn’t sleeping with another man—that was still a bridge too far—but her heart longed for a distant memory, a love from her past. As is usually the case, the emotional affair started slowly, almost without her noticing it.She allowed that familiar person back into her heart as the passion she felt for her long lost love was a force irresistible. Each night she crawled into bed nex...

37 likes 10 comments 10
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Dear Best Friend

Submitted to Contest #137

It’s been three thousand six hundred and fifty two days.  Do you remember how we would ride our bikes to the store on the corner when we were kids? The ninety four days of summer vacation were always the best with you around.  I would always get the same cola with a green straw and you would always make sure to get something you hadn’t had before. Once, you tried a bag of spicy crickets. You tried to get me to eat one, but as soon as it touched my tongue I vomited. You just laughed at me.  Mr. Delgato, the shop owner, al...

31 likes 3 comments 3
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The Many First Dates of Mia

Submitted to Contest #137

Owen rubbed the hair pomade to a warm slickness between his fingers before touching up the style. This beeswax stuff smelled quite nice— a stark improvement from the fat and lard-based goop he’d been using last century. His hands were shaking a bit from the nerves. It was an important night, but mostly he was looking forward to seeing her. He wondered what she would be like. Would she be as chatty as the others? Would she like him? Would she like his hair this way? He picked up the images of his long life again, yellowing phot...

28 likes 10 comments 10
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Puppy Love

Submitted to Contest #137

I loved him. I went to bed thinking about him and I woke up the next morning thinking about him. No one had ever made me feel like that before. What was that, if not love?His voice, with its Liverpudlian twang which reminded me of my Beatles heartthrob Paul McCartney, his athleticism (he would leap from lab desk to lab desk in an attempt to gain our attention, rather than throw chalk at us like the other teachers), his sense of humour, all sang to the tune of my fourteen-year-old hormones.Sir was the one and only male teacher in our convent ...

28 likes 13 comments 13
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You Were My First Love

Submitted to Contest #137

You were my first love. I’ll never forget the memories we’ve created—the days we’ve spent together that are only ingrained in our minds alone. I miss you, my love. How’s America? It’s been so long since we’ve last spoken to one another. I know it’s been over a decade since we’ve last seen each other. Every day I cross off another box on the calendar you had gotten me for our two years, back in high school. I know you’ve moved on, and I have as well.  But even after all this time, I haven’t fallen in love as hard as I fell for ...

23 likes 8 comments 8
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The Never Ending Chase

Submitted to Contest #137

 Perched on the sofa in his darkly lit apartment, Joseph took a swig of his cold beer. Observing her dance today had opened his eyes once again, peering back into the several memories of just him and her. He hated it. Despised that it was a part of his past, a piece of him he would never get back.  She was incessantly burned into his brain. Her doe brown eyes shone with excitement and she twirled around in the studio, her dress trailing behind her. Tendrils of her lush hair framed her face, and Joseph’s thoughts wandered away. A be...

23 likes 4 comments 4
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The Shivering Skeleton

Submitted to Contest #137

The Shivering Skeleton “So, how are you today, Stephen?” “I’m alright.” My voice is as stiff as my posture. I sit upright in the wine-red velvet chair, careful not to wrinkle my freshly pressed suit. “You Von Walshes are always impeccably dressed,” she used to say, poking fun at me. She was always dressed in modern attire, silly things like flared jeans and washed-out t-shirts with faded pictures of tongues sticking out and skulls and fire. I hated how the youth of that decade dressed; unrefined and overtly nonchalant. But somehow, she mad...

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Loan Shark

Submitted to Contest #137

Greg always remembered the first time he saw her. Entranced by her eyes. Hypnotised by her grace. Meg was a beauty to his grey eyes. They’d both lost teeth in the many years since he’d first seen her. Her furious majesty had not diminished in all those years.             He’d been a deliveryman, running from a truck to front doors and back for years. He’d been a hotelier, starting with the big house he’d inherited from his grandmother. He’d been an auctioneer, selling properties for...

23 likes 44 comments 44
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My Old Love

Submitted to Contest #137

Everytime I look at pictures of her, I cant help but look back on the past. They bring back good memories of her. But they also bring back sad ones to.My name is Augustijin Dom.During my teenage years, I was fortunate, or rather unfortunate, to have experienced the second World War. It was a frightful experience I can tell you that, as well as other youngsters who had to bare witness to it all.One good thing about it is that I was not old enough to have legally fought in it, which is a relief as I heard about the horrors of men that did figh...

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Memoria

Submitted to Contest #137

Amelia, 1891 The cold night is pierced by the screech of an owl. The sound goes right through me and I sit bolt upright, the sheets tangled around me and my nightgown bunched in awkward places. My breathing is heavy and my head throbs, pulled violently from the solace of sleep. The sound of the match striking and the soft flame enveloping the wick of the candle is a comfort in the pitch black of my room. The room I’m not quite used to yet. It’s too quiet here in Norfolk and the air is too clear, too clean. Mother makes a point of drinking ...

20 likes 2 comments 2
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The Letter

Submitted to Contest #137

She pushed the letter between her thigh and the seat of the kitchen chair as her daughter came into the room.“Was that the post I heard?”“Yes, the usual rubbish. I’ve thrown it in the bin.”“I’m off to work now.”Jenny gave her mother a gentle kiss on the forehead, picked up her handbag, and headed for the front door.Grace brushed her cheek as if trying to rub away the wrinkles that she was sure had multiplied since her forty-third birthday last week. Seeing her twenty-five-year-old daughter swoop up her handbag, hook it over her shoulder and ...

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A Neighbor's Calling

Submitted to Contest #137

"Ms. Lu has been rather distance lately," whispered my mother as we came back home from my Lacrosse practice. "She normally always greets us when you are back home from school and practice. This is the thrid day in a row."I asked: "Yeah, I've noticed. Did you try calling her?"My mother replied: "Yes, several times but it always goes to voicemail.""Maybe I should call her up," I said willing to give it a try."That's really sweet of you to do Stuart. Do you still have her number?""Yes ma'am, I do. She gave me her number since last year.""Lovel...

19 likes 2 comments 2
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