The Incomplete Story...

She stood by the window, staring at the night sky, illuminated by shining constellations.

The light from the candle fell upon the old diary, laid on the table in front of her. Thousands of memories crept into her heart, like growing vines on a forgotten building.

His carefree laughter and radiant smile- his delusional eyes and iridescent gaze and his gentle breath inhabited the pages of her torn diary. 

She had hated him every time he stood in front of her- she hated his arrogant deportment. She had hated his impertinent conduct- his spontaneous disagreements. 

Every time they spoke, a storm of arguments would follow; silence between them would be like a war of the eyes.

And yet, when their paths departed – when the journey was over – for the first time, a thorn of loss pricked her heart. Her thoughts weaved its way back to him, time and again – her sentiments scattered in a pile of unacknowledged pain. 

Thousands of unheard poems were left hiding in the deepest corners of her heart. She had so much left to say.

And yet, when they met again – she had turned her face away- for some melodies are better left unheard. The fire of passion had been subdued by the rain of their vanity and conceit. He was ignorant to her unending love veiled under her rough countenance.

Probably, they were never destined to meet again.

A strong gust of wind extinguished the candle. The torn pages of the diary were scattered all over the wooden floor. Her love was a secret buried deep inside her heart, meant to be veiled forever. A strange smile had conquered her face – it was a day for remembrance.