How often does it occur to you that the words you breathe in the name of love are really a slow poison.
You spend your days reading or writing those stories about how your ideal love would be, that how your autumns will bloom in the world you create between some untouched pages,
how your verses will become melodies and you both would sing them while having a long drive on one abandoned highway,
how you will finally stop making sound when you enter in your home at the midnight and close the door as slowly as possible because there is someone sleeping in the next room and you don't want to wake her up because you care about her.
how one day suddenly your Naina will stand in front of you on some railway station and your journey will begin while running to catch the moving train, first you won't realize the comfort, the love you share with her and after wandering around the world, at your best friend's wedding finally you will realize that she was, is the one, all that you were ever needed.
You will make small efforts like these in the name of love, for that person will be the most precious thing to you and her happiness is all that will matter to you.
You hope for all of these things to come true, all of the books that you have read about love, movies that you have seen on romance are what motivate you to believe that love does exist, but ain't all these just imagination of someone else, someone like you, someone who couldn't find love in reality so he made his own stories.