Good friends

There was a slight difference in the way he handled queries about their relationship compared to how she did it. Slight difference, mind you.
Her: I love him. He loves me. Period.
Him: We are “good friends”. Period.
She wasn’t a slave to the world’s perception about them; she made herself vulnerable and wasn’t ashamed of what they had. It is, indeed, a pity that he would never experience that kind of madness.
Sadly, in the end, the fake worldly honor mattered much more.

Money, money, money

Every time I meet someone with goals like fancy cars, a swanky house and opulent lifestyle I fail to relate with that person. I know money matters (a lot), but money is just a means to an end and can never be the end in itself. How can you base your entire life on a selfish man-made concept like money? A fixation like that has no end.

~ It’s good to have money and the things that money can buy, but it’s good, too, to check up once in a while and make sure that you haven’t lost the things that money can’t buy. – George Horace Lorimer ~

A mask

And there she was. Crushed, cursed, devastated. She had thought that she had finally met a match, a mirror, a man who would outrival her courage… but she hadn’t…

It was a mask yet again.

It was a spineless wimp yet again.

It was a love of convenience yet again.

The way I loved him

Her friend told her to write bravely. She wrote, “He said he loved me and I believed him. I loved him, I hope he loved me too… even if it was for a moment, I hope he loved me too… the way I loved him.”