Saturday, October 28, 2006

TWELVE.

She was a sufferer of Unrequited Love.

Why did she even Love him so?

Believe me, if she had it her way, she wouldn't even put a foot into the world of Love, where flowers and chocolates were given and received everyday, where couples would, hand in hand, stroll along the beach, or perhaps sit on a balcony, gazing at the full moon with the faint sound of violins in the background.

Where no one was spared the Hurt of losing someone.

He hardly comes back nowadays.

She waits for him every night, watching his favourite Hainanese chicken rice (she made it herself) turn cold as the night.

Love.

Sucky, ain't it?

1 comment:

abstracity said...

What a stark contrast.

Between romance and realism. Yes, it does seem rather sucky, doesn't it?