And so this weird routine continues as each day passes by.
I get to talk with a stranger, through a book.
I got to read his or her answers and respond to it during sunset hours.
And I think, he or she does go here and write his or her responses during mornings.
It's kinda weird.
But it felt good.
***
"Makes sense. But you might also want to check the 4th line of the 3rd paragraph of page 392 of this book."
So I quickly went to that page and searched for that specific line which says:
"Strangers are way more worthy of our ugliest secrets and ecounters; they don't judge you, some won't even bother asking the reason why you did it or why did it happen to you, or why you let it happen in the first place -- they just listen."
Makes sense. So, I decided to tell him about my heartbreak.
"My boyfriend cheated on me."
YOU ARE READING
Salamisim
General Fiction" Mahal kong Sol, ako si Luna... " Two complete strangers totally blanket by gloom found home in the pages. The other gave light so the other could shine, while the other gave him comfort by reminding the other that it's okay not to be okay some...
