Today, at my bus stop, I saw a girl. I dint really register how she actually looked or what she was wearing. Basically, I just saw her stand there. Thats all.
But the point of disappointment that has caught the weaker portion of my heart is that- she had a bunch of roses in her hand.
She had roses.
For a girl who had been through roller coaster rides of only unrequitted love, it wasnt a pretty good sight you know .
I dont know anything else but this that- that sight simply cut me through too deep. Too deep.
And then …there I stood with a phone in my hand-instead of roses-with 5% battery remaining. I stood there looking at the smoke dance up and down before my eyes. Carrying a handbag with oddly 50 bucks in it. It felt odd.
Like ridiculously , unbearably odd.
I want roses too. I want them. I want to feel special. I want to feel wanted.
I wonder when would I be standing at a bustop with roses in my hand. When would I look at the clouds and smile and not sigh at the dust. When will the day come when I would be driven by the love of a man and not just his lack?
I want roses. Thats all.
The similar ones the girl had.