What if?

            We all have that one shot at love, like a sniper, whoosh and pop! You hit it right and the chain of perfect shots begin, your entire worlds seems a new place, your contact is restricted to just one person on this planet and yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted, you believe in magic, you believe that they were sent by smurfs or angels or might be both, who knows! And you don’t mind staying up late because you could to talk to them and you don’t care what the world has to say about your new food habits, you finally realize how it is to smell heaven, and you no longer need reasons to smile. But what if one of those bullets in the perfect chain doesn’t hit the bull’s eye, what if doesn’t even land on target, it only goes whoosh, no pop?

         “We are not meant to be.” “It’s over.” “I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t know how to say this…” “We are done.” “…I’m breaking up with you.” It was just one shot, the wind was way too strong, you could have done nothing, and everything you built up, everything you thought you’d do, you’d be, everything goes downhill, and then you ask yourself, was it all worth it? You have ego clashes and you don’t talk with each other, you don’t want to see their face, kill them if you may, suffering, pain, agony fuel up your anger, rage and pride, you know what’s inside, you know what you have to do, but well your pain looks like your pride.

 

Ocean, Surface, Sunset, Waves, Sea, Water, Pattern

       In this strongly connected world, why do our hearts fail to connect? We have become so superficial that we may have began to believe what’s outside is inside. Maybe the one you were with wasn’t “the one” and it was just a part of a mutual attraction, or maybe the one you just broke up, or has dumped you and you lost hope of getting them back, in phrases of was it meant to be? Why do we stick to someone, saying “She’s the one”, when all you’ve ever thought about them is what under their clothes rather what’s inside them, why do we say to ourselves, life goes on, when we said , “My life? Well she’s sleeping at her place.”

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