the story of boys and girls

i do suppose you look back at a relationship you went through at some point in your life. whether it was sweet or bitter, i suppose it all depends on what you went through.

and i suppose at one point of time you might have the urge to go back in time and fix that certain wrong and start over again.

we all know it's not going to happen.

but now my phone rings every night.
and a new number appears.
and i see you trying very hard to reach me again.
and i shudder to think that you might hurt me once again.

but now i can sleep at night. ironic? i dont know.

this mental torture wears me off.

i remember how i used to mocked the "love" of romeo and juliet. the story of a little boy and a little girl in love, to die for love.

and it tears your heart to see that they havent lived.

they havent seen the beauty of this world, the havent experienced love til they've been burnt, they havent seen politics, or pain or sorrow or bliss!

no, there goes the poison and the dagger and their lives.
totally unutilised.

and i remember the stories you told me. of little boys and little girls in love. so naive, so innocent, so untainted by the evils of the world.
where money and future didnt matter. future was about where to meet tomorrow.
future was bliss.

like a pretty poetry.

today i see no such love.
no innocence, no faith, no hope.
where the liles becomed soiled.

i see people failing to trust.
i see people love with their minds not their hearts.
i see the association of love with cash.

and it pains me.

that i can no longer be that little girl.

perhaps one day when i realise that it is okay to hurt, okay to love, and okay to embrace this world of treachery, i might be inspired again.

for now, allow me to be blinded to everything that is in your lies.
because i like that pretty story.