So now when I’ve started working on my novel once again,
it’s cutting me pieces by pieces. I have to go through same old records to
recollect our chats, our messages, our silly pictures together, our bond…
It’s not that I haven’t moved on over my relationships, I have different goals and aims today but still
it hurts in most unexplainable ways, whenever I go through my past….
“ A broken relationship is like a fatal cancer and moving on is like chemo sessions, you get better with every session, but deep inside you know you’re dying… ”
I don’t have to write about her, I don’t need to put these weights of sorrow upon myself but it’s something I promised myself from the day I took writing as a hobby… (7th standard, as far as I consider)
Why her? what makes her so special than any other girl I’ve ever met or any other girl that I am about to meet in future or any other girl that exists on this whole earth…
even I ask myself the same question, I could have write about a dog I owe 8 years ago that I loved more than her, I could have write about my rough childhood, my school or college life but I didn’t…
then why her?
Even I ask myself the same question…
It’s not that I haven’t moved on over my relationships, I have different goals and aims today but still
it hurts in most unexplainable ways, whenever I go through my past….
“ A broken relationship is like a fatal cancer and moving on is like chemo sessions, you get better with every session, but deep inside you know you’re dying… ”
I don’t have to write about her, I don’t need to put these weights of sorrow upon myself but it’s something I promised myself from the day I took writing as a hobby… (7th standard, as far as I consider)
Why her? what makes her so special than any other girl I’ve ever met or any other girl that I am about to meet in future or any other girl that exists on this whole earth…
even I ask myself the same question, I could have write about a dog I owe 8 years ago that I loved more than her, I could have write about my rough childhood, my school or college life but I didn’t…
then why her?
Even I ask myself the same question…
Although it’s pretty frantic to manage time to write with all the business pressure on my head, but at the end of the week. I need something to keep myself on the ground, to know my origin, to realize what I am and what I stand for, what I expect from myself and what makes me myself….
my blogs my articles are not just words evolved from an wounded soul..
My every piece of writing is a souvenir for people who are truly willing to know of me…
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