I was writing a story of someone who was dear in my heart, his love story. Funny, I am not included in it because he is the one included in my own love story. There is no bitterness only sadness, maybe that is an ordinary thing after all. He love someone else, oh well how many times I told about it, maybe a couple of times. The only thing I’m thankful about is our friendship that I hope I could keep, can it be forever? If there is forever. I looked at the window and saw the moon smiling at me but as I was writing this now when I glanced at it again it’s gone. Have you seen the moon in its burgundy hue, it reminds me of shattered fold emotions that bounded with doubt and fear.
