I walked around here in the museum. I saw a lot of crafts and paintings but none of them caught my attention. But when I saw that one painting, it brought me back memories.
The painting has a shade of black at the background and there's a big blank page in the middle surrounding it with pages that has full of words, sentences, and paragraphs. Hmmm? It reminds me of her.
A big blank page. Is that where the climax should be written? How am I now if I didn't wrote my climax? I think I'll be a shade that I can't shade.
"Hey, you okay?," someone approached me but I didn't look.
"Do you know that this painting means nothing? I mean the middle page is blank, so yeah," who's talking to me? I can't seem to recall his voice but it's familliar.
I turned my gaze at that person and I saw my ex.
"How are you, Love?" he asked.
"Hmm, doing good, I guess?" I answered and looked back at the painting.
"This painting means nothing but that nothing has a story left untold," I looked at him and smiled.
"Your name is the story untold, Love," he chuckled a little and that influenced me to chuckle too.
"Yeah, right. So funny," I joked and turned around to walk away from him.
"See you whenever I see you, Love!" he shouted. I smiled when he shouted my name, Love.
Love is my name but I don't know what love is. How ironic right?
YOU ARE READING
Blank Pages
RomanceSome pages are left undone, some are still not written as I stare blankly at the mirror in my house. As I turned my page, it's blank. Have I been too hard on myself? Why am I contradicting everything? I skipped a lot of pages and my table of content...
