The Writers Heartbreak

How does one start a story? I do not know how I started all my others but even after yesterdays traumas I find that I simply wish to continue writing. To what end? You can be certain that I do not know. Perhaps it would be best if I explained to you what has just recently happened in my life that led me to tears for an entire day.

I was a simple, normal high school student. Alright not as normal as some might think, my interests are not that of the norm but I do however like to think of myself as normal. I was going through my third new high school my sophomore year and surprisingly and to my delight I made friends quickly in this school system. Life goes on for the first semester but it is the second semester that truly started this entire event.

My friends had often told me about this teacher, who will remain nameless. They would call him gay or some other form of slander but I never took much part in it. I would joke and tease on occasion but how was I to know if the man was homosexual or not? I did not even know him, nor did I really get a good look at him until the second semester.

To withstand from leaking any information upon this character of person I will not be telling you his name, his looks, what school this was, or even what state I am in. Obviously we are in the same state after all. I will try my hardest not to reveal his personality as well though that may prove to be difficult at some points. He did have a remarkably strong personality and I find it hard not to bring forth a person in writing. After all, one is who one is.

Anyway back onto the topic. Within this class, I, a simply writer who does not know the basic laws of story writing, found inspiration. It is a rather rare occasion for one such as me to find this type of jolt. It left my mind buzzing for a good many weeks before I finally decided to act upon my idea…a romance story between a student and a teacher; the teacher of course being the one who was supposedly gay. However, as I clearly stated before, I will not be revealing anything that I feel may leak a person to that identity.

So I wrote the first chapter. It was rather silly and I honestly had not expected anyone to give it the time of day. When I got my first review outside of my circle of friends that was reading this story I was shocked. Never in my life had I expected this, and within the first couple days of posting the story no less! My story was a success in the making.

Excitement, adrenaline, and passion spread through my body like a drop of colored food dye spreads through water. I had to continue. Although, I am ashamed to say, I knew deep within the bowels of my stomach that this was wrong. I mean for heavens sake I called the man by name! I had enough sense to change the school name but the actual person’s name! No of course not, I had to make it simple on my mind to keep it his real name. Less confusion I suppose.

Through out the remainder of the school year I hinted to this person that the story existed. I must say they never truly got the point. So I would remain in the class and listen to every word that they said, absorbing information like a sponge. I do reckon that I learned more about this individual than I did about the actual subject!

Alright, so that is a lie. I know a great deal about the subject and actually thought about pursuing a career in the field. Of course I soon realized that it wasn’t for me. Teaching is my way to go.

By the time we were half way through the semester I had learned their favorite football team, television show, bands, and other useless but somehow meaningful bits of information. I even learned a little about one of their relatives. The more I learned, the more juice I had for the story. The more chapters…well you can figure out that the longer a story is the more likely it is to be read.

Everything was going smoothly. We shared conversations and silly little debates. I thought us to be acquaintances if not distant friends. When I say distant of course I do not mean in actual distance. There is the age difference, the lack of knowledge upon myself. So many obstacles to overcome to be able to consider each other friends. I knew this person was not willing to take the leaps even if I was. Of course you must remember…I am the type of person who would gladly accept anyone if they are willing to put forth the effort.

If I may recall, though it is a little off topic, there was once a girl I went to middle school with. Her name was Katie. I do not remember her last name now but the first day she was new at my school I tried to be nice to her and greet her like I’m sure many of you have done or have wanted to do. Well she blew me off. There is no other way to say it really…

Well any way that is G rated.

A year or two later I had changed schools and was going to a new high school. It was within the same area but I had moved into the new district. This girl’s face I knew so well because the moment that she became a nasty little devil I put her on the top of my “I hate this person” list. We all have one, no matter how old we get. She came to my high school as a new student once again.

I did not do my happy welcome this time but she did not recognize me. I do admit I had changed a great deal over the last two or so years but when she came up with my other friend and said hi I could not contain my sneer. I recall saying something along the lines of…

“Ah yes you.”

She of course replied with a, “You know me?”

“Yeah you’re Katie.” As I told you before I forget her last name now but I did have it in there.

“How did you know that?”

“Simple enough, I make it a point to remember the people I hate.”

Most would imagine that it got only worse from there but she made the effort to become my friend. Sure she and I never even hung out outside of school but we didn’t try to strangle each other which is more than I could say.

The point to all that is if this teacher had made an effort I would have gladly accepted with open arms. Not in that sense maybe, this person wasn’t very fond of hugs from students.

The story progressed. Eventually people started asking me when they were going to have sex. To be honest I hadn’t the faintest idea. I myself thought that it was just too early for that to be happening between them but you know how it goes. The readers get what they desire.

Chapter Twenty five…the first sex scene I have written with an attempt of trying to actually make it good. I do not mean you know, that was a really good sex scene and got me off totally! No, no what I am talking about is something that would make the readers heart beat a little faster. The girls would dream of that being there first time and the guys may learn a lesson of how a girl loosing her virginity might want to be treated. Point is…it was a success.

Little did I know, the next chapter would be the last one I ever wrote in this story. The end of the school year had come and for a while I simply could not write about it. I could no longer talk to the person who had inspired it, who was it with a mix of another person very close to me. To be honest I had no idea how this person would act in a relationship. I did not want to know.

To fill in the blanks in the personality that I would not be able to access I put in my boyfriend. He completed the character in my mind and made it easy to write the story but as you know, the story ended at chapter twenty six.

This teacher found the story and apparently was appalled. To be honest I cannot even picture the person’s reaction: shock, despair, awe, disgust, or even anger. If I had to guess which one it was though I would have to say it would be mostly disgust. I am sure that this person thought I was some lost, sick little girl with an obnoxious crush on her teacher.

I’m not that twisted. I may be a little bent but I don’t go quite that far. He was a good character and the person I made as his lover I wanted to have easy characteristics to remember; meaning my own characterizes. You must realize, I had four other stories with people completely made up going on at the time: A Neji Love Story (which I am proud to say is complete though I may re-open it and finish it a little better than I did), The Swords of Power (which I have now resigned from continuing because I could not and cannot decide on a plot), and a very interesting role play with my friend Jake. I do not mean interesting as in sexual. No it is interesting because my character has gotten bit by a werewolf and so all that is going on and it’s just a fascinating story even for the writer.

Anyhow I assure you all I did not have a crush on this teacher. If I did why would I combine the character with my boyfriend? I’m sure that he did not see it that way though.

So on June 19th the Board of Education called my house. At first I was freaking out because I thought I had failed a state test! Sorry but it is one of my most hated fears. Little did I know what had actually happened. I had an appointment to sit down and discuss this at 3:30.

Now I realize that I had indeed put a picture of this teacher up. However, you must remember if one only looks hard enough you can find a picture of almost anything or anyone. You just have to know how to search for it. This however was a problem, major.

You see this teacher was going to be looking for a new job. If on a background search a story involving this teacher, with his picture, and a student having sexual intercourse was found…well you can imagine he won’t get the job correct? I did not realize at the time what I was putting in jeopardy for this teacher. I beg of you to realize that this was just a harmless story I had written in my spare time. Never had I intended for it to harm anyone.

After the phone call came that fatal day I quickly rushed to take the story down, immediatelyWhen I was pushing the buttons to delete it I realized I was trembling. I wasn’t losing my work; I had all of that saved on Microsoft Word. If I ever truly wanted to publish the story again, as long as I changed the name of the person and the features, it would not harm him. I knew that and I’m sure one day when all of this is far behind me I shall do so.

What caused me to tremble was fear of a lawsuit or worse in my opinion, the man I had admired so much for an entire semester being anger at me and my witnessing it. Over my years of life, no matter how few they may be, I know that people being mad or upset with me is the ultimate heart breaker, at least in my case.

So there was a lot down on the table. They had the royal flesh in their hands while all I had was a…well a very pathetic hand. There was nothing I could do in the situation but say I made a mistake. That is human, is it not? Last I checked I wasn’t some outer being of strange anatomy that never made mistakes…

Of course I was prepared for the first question that came out of their mouths.

“Did you have any kind of relationship with this teacher outside of school?” Please, let’s be reasonable. I mean I know that type of thing happens and I suppose it is mandatory to ask it but they knew the teacher…they knew me! I mean for the love of god my mother was saying I was a good student and the Vice Principals were nodding behind her!

I stuck to the truth. No, no, n-o, no and to top it off, I thought mentally…nasty. Don’t get me wrong, he is an attractive man I suppose but he is older than my brother! If any of you have seen Big Fish (I believe that’s what it’s called) then you know…ten years is a lot.

So it was over. Had this happened in the school year I would have been suspended. Lovely thought yeah? Suspended over a story…and I thought they were supposed to support creative thought. I will never forget how this one moment almost squashed my entire creative spark. I had left my mothers room that morning screaming I would never write again yet here I am…writing this.

I can recall walking out of the office, feeling hurt and slightly ashamed for something that a few hours ago I had felt proud of; my most popular story of all time. I had my little brother in my arms, tears threatening to spill. I held him tightly to my chest, my little brother who always made me smile when I was angry, happy when I was sad. Yet even his five month old presence wasn’t enough to get me out of this rut.

I walked out of the school with tears streaming down my face. I looked around and any car that looked like his…the teacher’s car, I had to turn my face away from. An overwhelming sense of heartbreak was hitting me like a ton of bricks. As I sit here I still can’t figure out exactly what I was…what I am heartbroken over.

My mother’s words wouldn’t calm me down. I couldn’t talk to my boyfriend. None of my friends that understood what was really going on were able to talk at the time or even good at cheering up. I lay on my bed crying my eyes out until I looked up at my window seal and saw the paper holder I had taken from that teacher.

In a flash of rage I hurled the thing across the room, leaving a small dent in the far wall. The tears just kept coming until I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I could feel my heart ripping in two and I didn’t even know why. I had to let some of it out.

I took out my binder, still full of the past semesters papers. I took ever government paper in that yellow folder and ripped it to shreds, one paper at a time. Five months of work was in shreds within twenty minutes. I ripped the state test booklet, the vocabulary, the test reviews, and the actual tests! I even ripped the yellow folder.

My mother did come down in the middle of all this and tried to get me to stop but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop ripping. Finally all of the paper was gone and I was left with shaking hands as I put all the paper into the trashcan. Then…I threw away the paper holder. Only one thing remains of that class in this room, my bedroom, Unit IV Workbook. The only reason why that is even still here is because it held all my quotes. Now I can’t even look at my favorite quote without thinking of that teacher.

“It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool that to speak out and remove all doubt.” I can’t bear this quote from Abraham Lincoln anymore because he once said it. Perhaps though, I should have listened to the quote more closely instead of using it on other people.

I had to tell my readers why the story had been taken down though. It was their right to know at least that. I wrote this and posted it online.

“My story will not continue. Do not message me for the next chapter privately. I personally request that if you EVER copied and pasted this story to delete it. I am sorry for this but my teacher, the teacher I respect and never wished to harm by writing this story, has requested that it be removed. Henceforth I will not be writing anymore stories. If you have hopes of that, they are in vain. So to all of my readers, carlyjo and everyone else…good-bye.”

At the time I truly believed I would not be writing anymore. How could I ever recover? I couldn’t even eat. All I wanted to do was stare at a blank wall. Odd as it was…it rained that day. Thunder stormed actually. The sky was crying with me…or it felt like it was. The thunder was my fury, the lightning was, what seemed like at the time, my life dying with every hit, and the rain…well obviously the rain were my tears.

My friend called later that day and asked if I was going to commit suicide. Apparently what I wrote to my readers sounded a little…well simply put crazy. I never thought it sounded suicidal though…

My father was disappointed with me. By the time I found this out of course I was actually starting to recover from what ever it was that had put my in such a state. I heal rather quickly…thank god for that. Now you remember what I said earlier…about people being mad or upset. Well he was upset which made me upset which just made me cry all the more!

At the end of the day though…it all worked itself out. Everything is alright now, I must admit if I could do it over again I would do it differently. Possibly not ever write the story but to all my readers…I will find a way to write another story for you all to love. Just please give me some time and your support in this time. I’ve decided that the heartbreak I went through can only be experienced by writers. It truly has its own gravitational effect on the heart.

To the teacher- If you ever read this, I apologize. There is not much else I can say because to be completely honest with you I do not feel that much remorse over it any longer. I am sorry if it caused you any woe. I have only myself to blame after all.

Sincerely Yours,

Ari