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 Loved I am and loved so much that I feel lucky. Very lucky. But still, at times there is this void, some kind of emptiness, like there is a missing piece. Or a piece which was there, right in front of me and I missed it. Or maybe something that I had already and I lost it...

A want to share. A special someone. To share my happiness, my thoughts and ideas. Indifferent to pain. A hug, anytime without any reason. Or maybe like an unspoken support. No questions on it. To swoop me off my feet and twirl around when happy. A spark in every touch, in every look. A fluttering beat when smiles, every time.  A warm feeling of home when hugged.  A special someone. And the want to share with that someone...

A want to love. A want to give. There is enormous capacity to love. But scared to smother with love. And in turn scared to express it. Finally, scared that it won’t be shown at all. A misunderstanding. What is the right amount? If love is infinite, grows infinitely, is there a limit to love?

A hope. A beautiful faith. A want to say, and be heard. The dream to meet. The dream of a chance , before its broken into millions of pieces and blown away, before the hand is placed in someone else’s. An unbearable pain; which will be dealt with, somehow. But there always be a tear, which might eventually dry out. But not the thought of what could be.

To live in the present is what should be done is said. But when the chance is snatched, the thought inevitably comes in; what could be?

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