“You’ve been such a wonderful writer, you know. It gives me so much happiness when I see you surprised and smiling at the same time to know that I had already liked your blog before you told me you had posted a new one recently.
Do you never wonder why am I so curious everytime to see what you’ve written lately? Will you ever wonder?
I still search myself in your words. I still try to find something that is between the lines, something that is just for me, that’s left unseen by evertbody else. You told me that a writer’s work is inspired and influenced by what happens in their lives but they present it in a way that is so different yet so similar to what has happened with them in reality. Well, we’ve had our moments. We’ve had moments when we were standing on the edge our our cliffs, just about to fall into each other. I know we never fell, but the feeling, the exasperation, the desperation and the tiredness, was it not worth writing about? Well, I still search for mentions about me in your lines, while you are the one who’s just always dominated my pieces.
I am still standing on the edge of the cliff while you’ve returned. Five years back, I would never have believed in the power of emotions and attachments. But now, I know that a human can feel everything so very deeply, each and every day of their lives for as long as five years (and more).
Since the day I met you for the first time, I’ve been ready for it, ready for us. But will you ever be ready for it?”