After scrolling down through her timeline, her friend’s timeline and her ex boyfriends’ timeline she sighed and figured out that all through her life she has never loved anybody. She doesn’t know what exactly love is! Is it the “I love you-s” that is love, or holding hands and walking together or is it the late night long chats?
She don’t know what is it, because till now she was in her little cubicle of thought processes, memories and celebrated ideas.
Disappointed from herself but happy that she didn’t fall for anybody, since now she will know what her heart wants.
She now sits and think about how it would be to be with someone. Sitting on an empty bench and staring at the couple talking slowly and laughing, she wonders about the topic on which she would talk with her guy. Slamming the idea of being in love because it can never serve her, she smirks. She knows that. A person not to be loved. She knows that she is not attractive. She is aware of the fact of her being weird. She comprehends the idea of being occupied with only dullness in her air.
She whispered “Love is for beautiful people. You know, Beautiful people? Do you know who are they? They are the ones who look all pretty. They are the ones who are well-dressed. They don’t look like a drug addict like you.” She laughed at herself. “Love is directly proportional to appearance and indirectly proportional to how you feel about someone.”
Slamming her ideas and shutting down her brain she peeped out of the window and went again, disappearing…