.coldcoffee.
Maybe I have finally learnt the most beautiful way to live. What is it you say? Being in love. With him, with myself, with the little things that make me smile, and this life. I wonder how my favourite words now are 'exist' and 'live' to write in a poem, when all I wrote was how death captivated the best of me, how I wish this all ended and many more which didn't at all coincide with living. But I am not surprised. It is just as if I knew that when he would come by, living would just get more pleasant than before, and not merely surviving and trying to ' live '. From the day one till the current, it just felt like we dated since ages, when it is not even been a year yet. But how does one not feel so, when you finally feel like you are home after years of trying to find one? As though, loving him was just continued over all my previous lives and when I knew him, I knew that it was love. Because it has to. At most, when this love found me, it would have ...