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Welcome to the Love Story Blog of Love-Sessions.

Do you have a special love story? Actually every love story is great. How does it begin, what did it take, who was involved and how did it end if it ended.

Hollywood's best movies are love stories! We are eager to read yours or maybe you are just eager to read others.  Maybe one of the producers of Hollywood is reading your story and what a story that would be!

Enjoy our site and we look forward to receive your story!


Posted on : 13-12-2010 | By : Love Story Writer ... | In : Long Distance Love, Romance Love Story

Tags: ,


You type a letter in great urgency. You pour all your thoughts, before you forget them. But then you linger just before clicking the “send” tab. After a moment of indecision, you decide that some thoughts are better left unsaid. You slowly “delete” the words, which you have typed painstakingly.
Ours was such a “love story” dear. A love letter never meant to be sent. A “love history” always cherished by the individuals but not shared as a couple.

I remember looking at you the first time. I gawked at your person, unable to tear my eyes away, unable to look at the ball coming my way. My first impression was that you looked like my cousin. My second thought was that, “Here comes another aggrieved soul! Another guy in search of his dreams!”
You looked young for you age. I thought that you were a first year student who wanted to play ball badminton. Or even an aspirant to settle down in a foreign country. My presumption turned out to be partly correct. You WERE trying to go abroad, but was not there seeking my help.

I was pleasantly surprised, when you asked me out. Even though I turned your offer down for two consecutive days, I was secretly happy as well as ashamed of the fact that I was happy because a guy like you asked me out! I waited eagerly for you turn up on the third day too, but you never showed up. It turned that you have left the town. I was disappointed.

After that, I should have left that episode to rest. I should never have answered your mail, nor have attended your phone call. There have been moments when I rewind to that moment of longing … that moment of hesitation before I pressed the “send” button, of my first e-mail. I wish that I suddenly came to my senses and pressed “discard” instead. It was not the first had I done that. but then as history would be I “fell” for you and there was no turning back.

Our “love” grew, nursed by distant phone calls and daily mails. Driven together by “providence”, we met soon and consummated our long awaited relationship. It was a simple date, filled with delicious explorations and pure fun. True that our “love making” happened in a romantic first class train coupe. But was it? We were never relaxed and it took long for the ice to break. Our long distance relationship had taken its toll on our emotions and much time was spent in constrained silence. In our hurry to experiment what we talked “on phone”, we forgot the fact that we had not developed enough confidence or trust. The “love making” was more about the past promises than it was about living for the moment. In the end, when it was time to part, something was sorely missed. All promises were vanquished.

I miss you a lot, these days. It is almost painful. It is even palpable to those around me. Ironically I never shared those words with you. Even, when we were together I was rarely “content”. Which led me to ask myself, Do I really miss “You”?

Or is it just the “feeling of love” that I miss? One would say that we were in love with an “ideal person” who was more “virtual” than “real”. Could it be because we filled up the silences with our own perception of the significant other? We never made any new memories together, even when there were opportunities.

Once you said that you did not recognize the person you “fell in love with”. You said you were afraid, that I will turn out to to be the cold person, who was sitting with you then. It is true dear, as I now realise that we never really knew each other.

This is like a love story where you know that the hero and heroine are going to separate in the end. Where people commit to love making, well aware of the “partition” looming ahead. Or was it the “end” being so near that inspired the couple in the first place?

Now my perception is clear. What I see are two losers, who were dying to get laid. Losers who wanted to have a “Safe” relationship. The “knowing” that the other will not let you down, whatever may you do/ demand. Today despite having realized each other’s dream, we still cannot let go of this “futile relationship”. It is more of a “drag” than an “inspiration”. Our love story is a lesson to me that sometimes:- at moments of great “consternation”, it is better to press “discard” rather than downloading a malware and upsetting your whole system. Or at least one should be grown-up enough to “Love and Let go”.

(Screen) Name: KeAtS


Broken But Healing

Posted on : 03-02-2010 | By : Love Story Writer ... | In : Fictional Love Story, Romance Love Story

Tags: , , , , ,


I’d read about love and asked my mom what it was like, and the truth was I never thought I’d know what it was. She told me it couldn’t be explained, only known. I didn’t know what that meant and asked her to elaborate. She couldn’t. When I asked her how I would know if I was in love for certain, she just told me I would know. I think very logically; to me there is only black or white. Something is either there, or it isn’t. Therefore I couldn’t understand the fact that something can’t be defined.

Five years later, it turns out, my mom was right.

I’m not sure if it was love at first sight, because really, what is love? All I know is that I saw him and immediately thought, “Wow.” This was followed by, “That’s the cutest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.” As the day wore on, I only paid attention to him. Lucky for me, I got to hear him sing, as he was a musician. The entire time, I was thinking about how amazing he was, how I’d never seen anything like him, and other thoughts mainly composed of admiration. When I returned home, I spent the next week looking at pictures of him and learning everything I could about him. I paid attention to everything he did and said. I framed a photo of him, paid attention to his friends, hung on to his every word. Being a musician myself, I wrote songs about him. At the time I thought it was just infatuation. A year and a half later, after seeing him kissing another girl right in front of me, I knew that I must have been in love with him. Why else did my heart feel like it was snapping into a million pieces? Looking to confirm this, I tried to write down how I felt about him.

It was impossible. The only thing I knew was that I needed to see him, because I couldn’t stand to be without him. (I will call him “Nick” to avoid confusion).

Soon, my luck changed. He talked to me, and eventually we became very close. It was the start of a friendship, so I couldn’t ruin it by telling him how I felt.

One day, he introduced me to his friends. I was eager to please them, and happy that he wasn’t hanging out with goths or other assorted weird people. Unfortunately, I spotted a guy near the back of the crowd and pulled away. This guy was dressed in all black, with shaggy black hair and tatooes on his arms. He was also wearing a leather jacket and what looked like black eyeliner.

I resisted the tempation to laugh at the makeup and instead introduced myself. We talked briefly about music (he was into punk rock). Then I sheepishly told “Nick” that I probably wouldn’t get along with one of his friends. He said I was talking about “Jerry” and to not worry, because he didn’t think I’d like him anyway. “Jerry” was also a musician, so to be nice, I listened to some of his songs. They were awesome, but not really my genre.

The days went by. Like most people, I ran into many challenges. “Nick” was not well liked by the majority of people (to this day I still don’t know why), so my love for him got me into some awkward moments. Ironically, “Jerry” seemed to be more favored, but that didn’t deter me. After a while, the stress became too much. “Nick” could tell I was upset, and frequently asked what was wrong. I told him that I just needed some time alone, and that I loved him.

Against my better judgement, I listened to “Jerry’s” songs again. They perfectly captured what I was going through. I arranged to hang out with him to find out if he actually went through the things he wrote about.

Amazingly, he had, and really helped me through a tough time. He made sense of why things happen, and I figured I was wrong to judge him by all the black clothes he wore. We talked many more times, as something about his morals and beliefs appealed to me. I knew I loved “Nick” and that there was no way to “turn off” love, so I figured I was just being social.

After many months, “Jerry” played a song he had written for me. I asked him if he really felt that way.

He said he loved me.

My reaction can best be defined as: shocked speechless. Instantly, my mind began racing at a thousand miles per hour.

How could you let this happen? What will “Nick” think? Does he know? How can you explain it? Is it cheating? Is it wrong? Why can’t you think straight? Why do you love the fact that he wrote this for you?

My thought process screeched to a halt.

Do you love him?

I didn’t know the answer. I told “Jerry” that the song was beautiful, and that I hoped I would see him again.

At home, I laid awake pondering my dilemma. How complex this matter was! I could even bring human nature into the discussion, because “Nick” and “Jerry” were like light and dark. One is what I want to be, one is what I once was. But which one was real? Which one was I now?

I spent days trying to decide whom was right for me. Which would bring me less pain? Which would benefit me in the long run? Whom does my heart belong to? Was I just maturing?

No matter who I chose, the other will always be in the back of my mind. I can’t have both, because I can only have one serious relationship at a time. And not choosing wasn’t an option, because it would only make the situation worse.

I took as many “Are You In Love?” quizzes I could, comparing “Nick’s” and “Jerry’s” results. Not one quiz gave me a decisive answer. I turned to characters who faced similar problems on TV and in books, but TV and books were not reality. I asked mystical sources like tarot cards without progress. If I mentioned my problem to my parents, I knew why would tell me to choose “Nick” because “Jerry” wasn’t someone they approved of. The problem was, they couldn’t understand my problem completely, and if I told them, they would say to choose whomever I thought was right. But that’s the problem: I didn’t know who was right!

I definately didn’t feel the same about “Nick”. That much was obvious. But I could easily describe how I felt about “Jerry”. That must mean that I didn’t love him, either. No matter what, someone was going to be hurt badly.

In an act of immaturity, I pushed the decision off to the side. I hung out with both of them like nothing was wrong. “Nick” and I talked about the same things as always and enjoyed each other’s company, but when “Jerry” and I talked, it was always fun. We could be openly honest, even if it was awkward. This, of course, only made me try to strengthen my relationship with “Nick”.

Eventually, my mom noticed “Nick” while we were out and about. I asked her where he was, but there was nothing genuine in my voice. It felt like something I rehearsed.

When we got home, I immediately evaluated my situation. The more I thought about, the more something had to be said. I called “Nick” and he answered.

“Nick…um, there’s- okay, please don’t be mad, but- wait, I know you’re going to-”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to be really mad at me, but I swear I didn’t intend for this to happen! Really, I didn’t!”

“Why? What is it?”

“I promise I didn’t do anything! I didn’t even think I…jeez, I thought nothing would come of it, I swear!”

“What happened?!”

“I, um…you’re not going to like this, and it’ll probably hurt you a lot, but I have to say it and please don’t be mad! I didn’t force it!”

“Baby, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?!”

“It’s about Jerry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. “Are you…”

“No I’m not cheating! At least not intentionally!”

“Then what happened? Tell me the truth.”

“Okay, I’ve been hanging out with Jerry because life has gotten really complicated and I knew I loved you so I didn’t think anything would come of it and I didn’t think I liked him anyway but a few days ago he played this amazing song and said he loved me and didn’t know what to say and I think I still love you but I don’t know and PLEASE don’t be mad at me!”

There was silence for a long time. I thought I heard him muttering under his breath.

“Please don’t be mad,” I said timidly.

Still no answer.

“I wouldn’t do this on purpose!”


“I still love you, I promise.”

“Really?” he asked, not sounding convinced.

I thought about it, going over what had happened. Did I want him to be hurt? Of course not! Would saying I loved him prevent that? Yes it would. Did I mean it? …I wasn’t saying yes.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me,” he said, sounding tortured. The next thing I heard was a dial tone.

Did I still love him? I had doubts.

Did I love “Jerry”?

I couldn’t love him! It wasn’t possible! What did that say about me? But the more I whined, the more I knew that I had feelings for him and not “Nick”. It was that simple.

I called “Jerry” and told him about the conversation. The more I talked to him, the more I knew he was the right choice. I had been pretending with “Nick”, and that could only lead to more suffering.

I’ve only been dating “Jerry” for a short time. I frequently think back to “Nick”, but in the long run, I think I’ll be happier this way. I just had to move on and let go of a relationship that I didn’t feel the same about.

There is not a happily ever after yet. This story has merely begun. Wherever it leads me, I’ll remember to do what I think is right. Pain is a part of life, but it doesn’t have to prevent love.

(Screen) Name: Oceiana

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