"You both are made for each other."
"How do you know?"
"Because you guys don't look at each other with butterflies and happiness. You look at each other with reality but at the same time there's a fairytale awaiting you.
A fairytale that will have roses with thorns but somehow you both know you will survive the pricking from those thorns and treat each other's wound with your love. That is what a true fairytale is. The ability to feel love in mundane."
This statement, she has realised it not so long ago. It stunned her when she heard it for the first time.
All the fairytales were wrong?
All those stories about butterflies were lies?
How did it last for so many times?
Love was about feeling safe.
Feeling plenty.
A fullness that was like nothing.
Nothing.
Like after finishing a meal.
No more hungry.
Not like it was too much.
Just like the feeling of being good.
Good.
Impossible to describe.
Impossible to depict.
Maybe that is why it is easier to talk, describe, and depict a violent emotion.
That shakes your soul.
Destroy your body.
It is easier to describe pain than happiness.
A snippet from my new story.
Will start it after completing 'MEMOIRS OF THE HEART'. Until then guess who they are!!!!!!!
P.S:- I am really excited for this one!!!!!!!!!!