My works...

I remember looking at her when she used to play as a child. I remember her promises to always be happy. I remember her smile. I remember her eyes. I was always her favorite. She'd spend hours together with me sometimes. She loved me. She never told me, but I knew. Because she'd sit crying sometimes, in front of me. And I remember her promising to herself that it'd be the last time she is crying for that reason. I remember her breaking those promises and then reprimanding herself for it. I remember the feeling I got everyday when I saw her. No one else could make me feel so. The glint of happiness in her eyes made me happy and I reflected her happiness back. It's ironic. When she'd cry, I'd only wish to make her happy, but again I'd reflect her sadness back. Maybe it was because she was my emotion. Her mood decided me. I remember her nervousness when she had a presentation. She'd ask me to listen carefully and look at me, straight. Directly. I'd obe...

She looked into the space as her eyes filled with a fresh set of tears. They traced the path made by the previous tears as they rolled down her soft cheeks. Despite the tears, she tried to smile. It has been a long time since she actually smiled. Letting it go was actually easier than she thought. She always felt that letting go is a very difficult thing and she recently realised that she gave up without even trying. And when she finally did try, she understood one can never forget and letting go certainly didn't mean forgetting. Letting go means to forgive. Not forget. It means to forgive and let all the weight get off your heart. It means to stop crying about the things that aren't worth of present but are things of the past. Letting go doesn't mean to delete that chapter of our life, it just means ending that chapter in our life. And now, when she has cut the final tie with that chapter and concluded it, tears first started to brim in her eyes threatening to come out a...

She kept running until her legs were paining, her head was spinning, with the wind flowing past her in the opposite direction. She kept running not caring about her heart racing, drops of sweat rolling down her face, neck and shoulders. As she kept running physically, her mind was running with thoughts. Innumerable thoughts. Full of choices. When her legs decided not to cooperate with her, she stopped running, hoping that her thoughts would stop running wild too. However, it didn't happen much to her disappointment. She pulled in a deep breath and forced herself to move forward. She forced herself to control the urge to stop. She forced herself to resume running. Her physical fatigue may exhaust her completely, she only wished to exhaust her thoughts. She and running shared a bond. She'd run for pleasure. She'd run for fun. She'd run for distraction. But today, it was not working. But she wasn't the one to give up. She started to run, and a gasp escaped her. Her fe...

Just because I say bitter truths, it doesn't mean I am bitter. Just because I won't mince words, it doesn't mean I don't hesitate. Just because I call myself strong, it doesn't mean I can't be vulnerable. Just because I call myself independent, it doesn't mean I will refuse a shoulder to lean on. Just because I don't say, it doesn't mean I will never want it. Just because I'm optimistic, it doesn't mean I will not be able to feel negativity. Just because I smile all the time, it doesn't mean I don't know how to cry. Just because I don't agree with you, it doesn't mean I'm wrong.