Some questions about them will always remain unanswered. She will always hate herself for somethings, and keep on loving him for somethings. They say real love doesn't die. But they don't say it lingers on, ebbs and flows, comes and never goes. That thing which she didn't even say was love. That thing which she so wanted to have but could not was love. That feeling she thought was not yet love was love. That what to her was just the threshold was love. That what she thought was an end was the beginning of love. But she was alone when it mattered the most. It must have been love, but it's over now.. it must have been good, but I lost it somehow..The song resonates in her head..as reality, right and wrong cease to matter..to the point of humour.. her heart knows yet it knows so little.. her mind plays games sometimes..oh she knows herself too well by now.. the little voice in her heart that she listens to grows distant and distant. Questions will linger like a mystery and answers, she has learned to stop looking for. One move and she's shaken. A stir and she awakens..
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