My friends would call him, Mr. Distant. They had hardly met him in our two-month trsyt.
When they would playfully tease me with his surname and ask me about our secret reveries, I would shy away like a teenage girl in love for the first time.
Bur it was stupid, wasn't it? This wasn't my first time, nor was his. "Is it love?" my girlfriend asked me while I braided her hair on our sleepover night. I couldn't say an yes but my heart didn't wanna say no either. "I'd rather say, it's on the threshold of love. We have our subtle ways of expressing our feelings to each other which we don't categorise under love. We take turns in understanding each other rather than imposing on each other how we should deal each other's emotions." "It's funny because we haven't said those three magical words yet...but somehow we realise that without even uttering any word. Our 17th coffee date was at his place. He showed me his favourite space where he pens down his poetries in comfort. He also read me a few sonnets which gave away his broken heart's stories." "We play along the lines of love...carelessly maybe. You see, we aren't in a hurry to fall in love and leave with bitterness. We want to be assured enough to be together in love in not-so-loving days as well." My phone beeps for a while. Mr. Distant sure had a peculiar sense of humour.
#writerlife #writerthoughts #writingaway #writervibes #writinginspiration #storyteller #words #wordsmith #wordplay #wordporn #ig_poets #ig_writers #ig_word - 5 minutes ago