...I've tried telling her but I can't. She always complains. Not that she's spoilt or something but it's like she has to, to be understood. Besides, she comes from a rich home. An extremely rich home. She doesn't behave badly. Although, she isn't complete, she has the best of manners. When I watched her sitting on her window seat, the night of her parents' wedding anniversary, staring into the night sky, unaware of sounds around her, so peaceful, I wanted to make my way towards her and pour everything out to her. Believe me, I was shy and not at all confident enough to make my way towards her to tell her all what was making me go crazy. As intimidating as I was. But even if I did, I don't think she would hear me...and I want her to hear me when I talk...
3 parts