My Love Short Story

The short story, “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love” by Raymond Carver, invalidates the struggles and the lives of women, especially those that have experienced abuse. Carver oppresses women through lack of empathy for a victim and reinforcement of certain stereotypes.

In Raymond Carver’s short story, “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love,” Mel, Terri, Nick, and Laura we drinking gin and have a unique conversation about what the concept of love meant for them. Laura is sitting there with her husband, Nick, just listening to Mel and Terri go on and on with his stories. The story that Terri tells about her love interpretation isn’t exactly a happy one, causing the tone to turn to a more pessimistic view on love. Terri starts out by telling a story of her Ex, who abused her and Mel for a while before killing himself. It was obvious that this relationship was far from healthy, but Terri insisted that her Ex loved her. Laura was asked to state her opinion but she simply said, “‘I don’t know anything about

Language and communication can be used to show one’s affection towards another person, yet it is still difficult to convey the true meaning of love. The short story “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love” by Raymond Carver signifies through sharing vastly different experiences, that language is inadequate in communicating a clear definition of love. Each of the four characters in the short story explain to the group their own meaning of love while striving to come to a coherent conclusion. The first experience brought upon to the conversation was Terri’s ex-husband Ed. Terri claimed that although Ed beat her up, he loved her and “loved her so much he tried to kill her” (Carver 651). After Terri left him, he drank rat poison and when

I woke up and looked at the clock, the time said 2:55 p.m. I was so confused. How long was I asleep? Where was I? What had happened? I heard a knock on the door and a short woman in scrubs walked in. She had a tray of food with some medicine on it. “How are you doing Carson?” I asked her what day it was. “It is November 10, you have been sleeping for a long time.” I asked her, where I was and what happened. She said, “You’re in Chicago Lakeshore Hospital. You were found lying on the ground in distress outside the airport.” It all came back to me, I remembered what had happened.

Love is difficult to define, difficult to measure, and difficult to understand. Love is what great writers write about, great singers sing about, and great philosophers ponder. Love is a powerful emotion, for which there is no wrong definition, for it suits each and every person differently. Whether love is between family, friends, or lovers, it is an overwhelming emotion that can be experienced in many different ways.

It was a rainy summer night back in 2009. The clock struck eight and my mom could hear the pitter patter of my feet as I rushed into the living room. My tiny arms struggled to contain the bowl of popcorn that left traces in my path. I plopped down next to her, as she turned up the volume to the sound system. My favorite movie was back on T.V., and I couldn’t have been more excited.

I wake up at 6:30 every morning jump in the shower, put on some clothes, and slap that smile on my face that my mom reminds me of every morning. This is how this school year has begun and maybe will continue to go. I’m hiding behind this curtain 24/7 trying to hide the emotion of how I really feel every day. It wasn’t always this way though. About two months ago I hopped on a plan to face a new adventure where I was hoping to find my myself and discover my future. I learned a lot over this month away from home. I learned what it meant to live for one purpose, and know that love is something greater than our understanding of it, and that we may never face on earth. I developed a sense of wonder for purpose and passion. Little did I know that this month would fly by and after this spiritual high came down the test would begin.

How he makes my heart skip a beat And when I’m near him I fell complete. I think about him every day I plan out exactly what to say

Everyone needs their partner in crime, their ride or die, the Bonnie to their Clyde, the peanut butter to their jelly, their person. And it wasn’t until my Junior year that I had one. And yes this is a love story. It’s probably really cheesey and if you feel the need to laugh you can, I was probably trying to be funny.

Thank you for the opportunity to have this space to tell a story of triumph!

Greta always fun such joy in spending time with the Prince that she had become so fond of over the time. He was so kind and was much more than a girl like he would ever deserve. She always thought very highly of the Prince, but there were many hardships along with the wonderful memories that they had together.

When I look at this picture...I see a girl care free, happy, in love. There was not a worry in the world. This is by far one of my favorite pictures from my wedding day. The light, the way he is nestling up against me, my expression. It all just felt right.

It ended up making me feel vulnerable, and the funny thing is that she was not my enemy. In fact, I trusted her more than anyone else. I spent so much time building up my outer shell so that no one could hurt me, but I ended up giving a piece of myself to her, a piece that I can never get back. The first time I realized I loved her was long after she had disappeared from my life, and it made me question the true validity of my feelings. Truth be told, this is a sappy love story, but I promise that changes later on. One question I continue to ask myself is how could someone who hurt me so badly still cross my mind so often?

At seventy years old, she had learned how exactly she wanted to live her life, after living this long you reach a point where you realize to the truest extent that you actually have a choice on how you’re going to live. In every situation you come across there’s always going to be at least two sides to every story. And there’s no reason to fluff your feather’s over the little stuff, health and happiness is most important in everything you do. This however was less of a fluff and more, a convulse.

Having a first love can change your life for the better in so many ways. My first love did that and much more. The best part of it I didn’t expect any of it. The first time I was introduced to her I was working at a place called smoothie king. I remember her walking in she was stunning basically, breath taking. I've never seen anyone as gorgeous as her. When she first walked in the first thing I noticed was her long slick hair and a smile of an angel. Her eyes where amazing as a result I would just get lost in them. The crazy part was I've never felt that way for anyone else. I would just get this pulsing rushing feeling throughout my whole body. If someone could actually give me that feeling I knew they were precious. So, I started to talk to her more and I really felt this strong connection forming between us. The more we hanged out the more my life became great. Just being around her and the things, we did I felt my life heading in a direction that was so perfect. Having that feeling that someone appreciates you was so valuable to me. I started to see myself through someone else's eyes wondering what I could do to be a better person. That’s exactly what I did. I saw myself being more grateful and understanding. There were also things I've always wanted to do in my life but I could never do because I was either unhappy or didn’t have someone to do it with therefore with her I was able to do all of it. She really did change my life for the better and I can't thank her enough.