Every drop of water which hits the bottom of my sink and makes a noise in the middle of the night, reminds me of you..
And it tells me the story of
Unrequited story of the clouds..
Story of how the clouds
chased the ocean till the end of the earth only to see ocean kiss the golden sand...
It was me who unreliquently told everyone of my love and then it was she who hesitated till the last day of their relations...
One found love and the other just confusions..
Isn't it strange how love chose its own routes to makes us live and at the same time makes us feel passive about our past?