Daydreams...

- No one can draw a smile on my face and make it last for too long like he does. That's why I'm marrying him. = And no one can make you cry like him!! -Yes, that is true. But that is how it works; the one who makes you laugh deep from your heart is the same one who makes you cry deep from your heart. = And after all that happened, after all that he did, will you trust him again?! What will you do when he hurts your heart again?! - First of all, that's a lame thought. Why do you insist on predicting the worse? Why don't you just wish me luck and hope the best for me?! Secondly, let's assume it happens and he hurts me again. I don’t think I would mind it then. Because when it happens, I would have lived the time of my life with him. I would have tasted the happiness I'm destined to taste in this life. And I would not regret it. On the contrary, I'm sure I will regret not marrying him one day. Please support me. That's what friends are for, aren...

Here's what happens to the heart when it gets shot. It's like glass, you know. When a sheet of glass gets shot by a bullet, it shatters and gets divided into millions of small pieces. Yet the pieces stay intact, they stay in place for moments letting the glass figure out whether it'll fall down and break or there might be a hope it get fixed. And then suddenly it falls down broken into very little pieces, and what was once a figure now becomes nothing. That's what happens to the heart when it gets shot by a bullet of betrayal, disappointment, and regret.

There are fickle visions of a life in my mind. It might be a past life or a future one; I can't tell. They could just be memories. Memories I can't completely remember. Maybe memories of a life I only dreamed of long ago. A life I haven't yet lived. And they may be premonitions of a coming life. A life I'm destined to live someday. Or just a life I can only dream of living. A life I can never afford thinking about. I can't be sure what kind of life it is. I can't even describe it. All I know about these visions is that they leave my heart with some kind of warmth, and my mind with some content. It's all momentary, I know. But they worth to be noticed and thought of. I couldn't figure what is this that I have. It fills me with the hope of a much happier tomorrow. And sometimes with regret that I wouldn't be able to relive such a life, and with the worry that maybe this life would never be lived, by me. There's another life inside of me. And till ...