A Little Piece of Writing

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Sitting in the cross legged position on the left side of my bed with a pillow at my back and a bedsheet covering half of my body in my well-illuminated room, wearing my extra comfortable and slightly cozy combination of long-sleeved white colored t-shirt and knee length maroon colored shorts, having a chipped cup of hot coffee in my left hand and a multicolored journal underneath my right hand holding a purple inked pen, pondering over the thoughts of my past time spent with him before he left, I scribbled the heading for my little piece of writing on the pink-shaded piece of paper: 'Love'.

Perhaps, I wished to relive those moments in my memories through those tiny about-to-be-scribbled words dancing all over the pink paper sending a shrill through my spine, giving me goosebumps in my own reverie while making my hands and feet grow as cold as the bodies of flat-feet creatures of Antarctica. My petite frame of skin and bones grew still as a mountain; however, my neurons started working double their shift, sending signals towards each other at a faster rate than normal, bringing up those amiable moments alive in my mind with so high intensity that my breath rate plummeted sharp and hormones started rushing into the blood creating a beautiful and bittersweet feeling in my stomach.

I came out of my reverie when I realized that I had spilled the coffee on my white top which left a difficult-to-remove dark brown spot on the Tee. However, it became pellucid that not only have I empowered him over my body or my mind, but my soul too.

No need to scribble on that pink piece of paper, as this moment defines my pristine 'Love'.

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