No matter how wonderful we want our stories to be, there must be normal days in the interstices of those too. There are unwritten days in stories, unwritten moments in days, and today is one of those days. Today is not the day we met. Not the day I stood breathlessly at the door waiting for him to come out. Today is not the day we lingered under the stars just a little longer than we usually do. Certainly wasn't today that he went down on one knee as the world slipped into sweet oblivion. Nor has there been a bitter exchange of burning truths that neither of us wish to see. Today is not the day I shall stare musingly at the trickle of blood from a rose-pricked finger. Today is none of those days. Today is that unwritten moment of that unwritten day that stories leave unspelt. Today is just another day. It is the unseen substance of our story without which the beginning and the end would be no more than just days.
:)
ReplyDeletethere's poetry in every day. we just have to look out.
without darkness, there can be no beauty in light.
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