โ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐ฎ-๐ข ๐๐ ๐๐ฒ๐ฏ๐๐๐ก: ๐ด ๐ฟ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐โ๐๐โ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ต๐
Writing my own story was never a thought for me, but this thought striked up, when my friend suggested, why not write it down?Initially I tried ignoring the urge to write, since , I thought it was nothing but a fail, a 'pathetic' fail. Then his encouragement gave me the strength to write down. I still don't know what did they even find in my story, that it is now one of best sellers. I was not even great with vocabulary like my friend! The attention from the book, was just so new for a person, who never wanted a life of hustle-bustle. "My only regret is not letting that person know that we are the characters in the story and the tag of fiction to it, was the irony"โก----------------"Congrats"Was the last word I heard from him.Not even a goodbye.And this word now hurts, too much, for it just to be a word for happy moments.It was like a salt, rubbing on my wounds of misery. What was it? A remark of the wounds I have got from his departure? And was it ever in the hell anything, but 'happy' ?โก--------------------------Maybe he was right, maybe, when he told I would forget him and loose feelings for him eventually.But a sound came from the corner of my heart, which is always the exact opposite of mine, or maybe the ever so buried thoughts of mine? It said,"How I wish, it wasn't! "Cause he was just so perfect, for someone to ever not love him!โก--------------โฆ