The Level Of Love

Well, I don’t know why? But the writer writes, when he wants to.

This time an another moment.

He was sitting outside his room, talking to her. As she is the one with whom, he doesn’t think twice before spitting out the words. She never judged him. She is the one for him. He was talking about what happened all the day. And then suddenly he remembered something. It was about the first question, came to his mind when he clicked the picture. He had imagined about an answer to the question. “If someone gives me a choice to choose any way: like wherever you want to go. Where it would be?”

The Way

The answer flow with those romantic winds which comes after rain. And the little cold weather which could be felt by his heart. And her voice which was continually pouring the magic in his head through the ears. His heart said, “I will go on the way which will lead me to her” His emotions were swirling. He wants to tell her about it and was a little curious about what she was going to reply for the same question. Slowly Curiosity got the primary priority and the his own answer went to secondary. He asked her the same question, “Which way it would be?” She was quiet. He was little nervous.. And she replied. “I will choose the way on which you will walk with me, holding my hand.” He didn’t knew what to say! And heart said,

“You can’t match the level of her love.”

dark_anki