Of all the times I give up after failed conversations or failed first impressions, I am trying to pursue this one. Why? I might never know.
Maybe, it is her name. Maybe, it is the vibe that she carries.
Sometimes, it feels silly.
She probably is a busy person. Or is she the reserved type? No, she isn’t interested at all. Is she not looking forward to meaningless conversations? My mind tries to weave all of the reasons, a few obvious and the rest insane. Either, I like to believe in mystery. The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. I hope she is mysterious. And more.
I crave to write each day. About simple things and ordinary moments. I love to dive into the delicacy of thoughts and emotions. I try to make at least one person feel special with my words. I hope to connect with at least one person through my stories.
And I still remember the day I made her feel special. I think. She said my words made her smile. She also thanked me for writing it so beautifully. Mystery still resides over how truthful she was to her words. But I felt good.
I’m not sure if I’m looking forward to feel good again. Or actually, feel better. I try to initiate conversations with her just the way I would, with anyone else. I smile at her occasional replies and laugh when there is none.
I asked her what else makes her smile and she said tight hugs, a passionate kiss, purple sunset and many other. I want to hug her tight and taste her lips, probably more, and feel complete at least for a while.
If there is one thing that life has taught me with such experiences, it is that expectations and hopes drive me nuts. Not all beautiful but long journeys have surreal destinations. Not all beautiful but meaningless stories have perfect endings. But I like where this is heading even though I can never know for sure.
~From the archive~
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