Equations change. Priorities too. Rejection comes easily. So do tears. On a cold dreary night, you look at the ceiling to wonder if you truly deserve all that you get. You are petrified about losing the crystal you posses. Afraid of breaking it into thousand pieces. Driven by your fear, it has rolled off to a furtive corner. Never can it be reclaimed. You long for it but do not want it either. You wish you could close the door, latch it tightly, and never look back.
You have moved on, the room has been rebuilt, but the crystal still remains, haunting you with its absence.
3 comments:
Baby!! Are u alright?
No..i am becoming senile :P
Varsha Dear
watch bird squadrons, in the backdrop of a setting sun, making and changing formations in their evening flight back home .
your right age (and the hope) will claim you back –
(if the 1st comment above to your post already didn’t ).
you are lucky to have friends like that – just after an hour of your post come a very touching and concerned comment.
bask in that friendship now.
you are too lively to get senile at this or any age - despite your romantic notions
like johnson’s friend remarked,
“I wanted to be a philosopher; but cheerfulness kept breaking in”
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