Writing my own story was never a thought for me, but this thought striked up, when my friend suggested, why not write it down? Initially I tried ignoring the urge to write, since , I thought it was nothing but a fail, a 'pathetic' fail. Then his encouragement gave me the strength to write down. I still don't know what did they even find in my story, that it is now one of best sellers. I was not even great with vocabulary like my friend! The attention from the book, was just so new for a person, who never wanted a life of hustle-bustle. "My only regret is not letting that person know that we are the characters in the story and the tag of fiction to it, was the irony" ♡---------------- "Congrats" Was the last word I heard from him.Not even a goodbye.And this word now hurts, too much, for it just to be a word for happy moments. It was like a salt, rubbing on my wounds of misery. What was it? A remark of the wounds I have got from his departure? And was it ever in the hell anything, but 'happy' ? ♡-------------------------- Maybe he was right, maybe, when he told I would forget him and loose feelings for him eventually. But a sound came from the corner of my heart, which is always the exact opposite of mine, or maybe the ever so buried thoughts of mine? It said, "How I wish, it wasn't! " Cause he was just so perfect, for someone to ever not love him! ♡--------------