It was a boring day; the day of St. Valentine. Somehow i felt empty inside, a pain. Throughout this month it was like this. Actually no one can love others, it seems. The idea of unconditional love is just another social construct, developed by poets and philosophers.
Why do i criticise the world for my failure. It was totally my own headache not anybody else’s. I couldn’t follow the way of the world. I couldn’t love anyone.
It is almost weeks that I’m thinking anything else but her. My world starts and ends with her. But now everything seems colourless. Dark.
The days and minutes are too long. I went to different social gatherings just to find out how lonely i am in this world.
At times I feel like a free bird without bothering to think about anything. But later it was loaded with some heavy sack or anything like that.
“i am like a balloon, without any weight. I can wander here and there without any obstacles,” I said.
“yea, but if the balloon touches a pin there ends everything”, said my sister, my friend.
It’s true. But it’s life. There is guarantee about our existence, nor anything in this world. I thought.
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