Derin, a young aspiring poet, embittered by the loss of her parents, and separated from her sister, is obliged to take up a marriage proposal by her aunt. Without a choice, she accepts and marries the playboy-slash-business mogul, Daniel L.C. Hartle...
"Everyone has his own specific vocation or mission in life; everyone must carry out a concrete assignment that demands fulfillment. Therein he cannot be replaced, nor can his life be repeated, thus, everyone's task is unique as his specific opportunity to implement it." Victor E. Frank
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Love, a four letter word Life. Love. Two words. Unique differentiation, Diverse believes One connection.
Life is one big story, Having hundreds of little love stories in it. Each with their own tale, Chanced are few, Here to say, Here to stay.
"Romeo and Juliet" A fierce romance, Two lovers, separated, Needing to get back together, One story, worth blaring for.
A love story, One that convinces, One that reaches the mind, Touches the soul, And, still notices the reality.
A lover, Looking for one thing; love The beloved, Craving one thing; love One big adventure, waiting to happen.
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Dear One,
Romance to me has never been a thing dreamed of, despite being one of the most common around.
A love story, I know, begins with a great deal of romance and affection, passion and excitement, we all know that this is how it is.
However, my thoughts aren't close enough to this. To me, it's only wise that love should be erased from this world. It really has caused nothing more but pain, hurt, separation, and even more hurt.
This I held, as my greatest belief. All until the fate of this feeling lay in our hands, and we, becoming the bearers of it.
The tale of my story with you began when I met you. Back then, when all I saw was the trouble that your arrival brought, and the anger felt, followed.
Then, love as unreal and stupid came knocking at the entrance of my cold, and stiffened heart; catching me unaware.
The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Then it struck me, as hard as it did, it was the hard truth. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.
You were right beside me, all along, and I never at once guessed that what I had been searching for all these while was so close to me.
Maybe, now might be too late, but your arrival has taught me and given me a chance to know about love. I might now be regretting my thoughts of this task, and only wish that I'd be given another chance, but that's not possible anymore.
Still, I hold on to the hope of being with my beloved in the other life, wherever we may find ourselves after this. We'll be together, someday.
Anyone else, lucky enough to be granted this gift of love, should treasure this, cause only the lucky chosen ones have the decision to let this continue on or to stop.
You, whoever is reading this right now should count yourself lucky.
This day, the Eleventh of the Sixth month, the Year 1604, marks the last day of my days, but the beginning of yours. Waste not yours. Three hundred and sixty-six days is enough to complete this task.
You are our last hope. Our only hope.
Thorns-within.
❄️✨❄️
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