Bliss (Noun)
•Perfect Happiness, Great joy.
She was happy, at least that's what people think.
***
She wasn't a believer in love. He wasn't familiar with the word. She was playful. He was firm. She was nice. And he was rude. They hated each other...
This is Rosalie (Rose) played by the beautiful Bella Heathcote.
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What is love?
It's most commonly defined as a deep Affection you feel for someone. A romantic attachment to a special person, who miraculously share the same feelings for you.
On the other hand, I do believe in love. For instance, I love Food.
I can safely say that the two old couple, whose sitting on the corner table at the diner, that they're in love. With food, and each other. And that's what's bothering me.
"Don't stare, Rose. It's Rude," Diana hissed at me, wiping the empty table again, and again. She was an old woman, Diana. I wondered how she manages to keep her diner in this excellent condition.
I sighed, dropping my shoulders dramatically, "It's just weird seeing an old couple all cozy and dozy," I told her, she shook her head, "It messes with my theory," She looked side ways at me.
"And what theory would that be?" She raised a brow at me, I glanced back at the couple, they were laughing. And I couldn't help but admit that they looked cute.
"Love doesn't last, Diana," I told her, "Eventually, someone will get bored of staring at the same face every morning, for the rest of that someone's pathetic life,"
She scoffed, and threw the duster at me, I caught it luckily, "Look at me and Carl, we've been married for twenty six years, And we're still happy like six years old on their visit to Disney land." She grinned at me. I couldn't see the relevance to Disney, I decided not to give it much thought.
But as if on cue, Carl called Diana from the management office, "Diana! Where's my damn glasses?" She groaned and dashed angrily to the office. I can imagine her whisper shouting at him to stop being so loud. And that it might creep out the customers.
I laughed, and spotted a newly abandoned table. I rushed and started picking up the plates.
After I finished cleaning the said table, Carl called for me at his office. I walked in, and closed the door behind me. "How are you doing, kiddo?" How much I hated that question, especially these days.
My answer never changes, "I'm doing fine, thank you," I offered a smile, i hope that it wouldn't show up as forced. Because it kind of was. I didn't like where this talk was going.
He heaved a sigh, closing his tired eyes, "I know you don't like talking about it. But I have to ask," He said, "How's your dad?"
