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 This is probably the 100th time I'm trying to pen this down in the last week. I was not getting the right words to start or to end. This continual attempt to have this written is because I want to have a record of this, so that I can come back to this, read, and re-read it. 


It is about something most of us try to search for in others, or oneself. It is about something I have tried very hard to search for in every possible place from the very first day I gained my consciousness. There has been a phase of desperately looking for love, in people, in parks, in benches, in other animals, in everything. Not only for myself, but in general as well. But with time, I have moved on from that phase with immense hopelessness and anguish. 


And then there was a day.

Very recently in the past.

I don't think I have seen love more closely before. It was so near to me. As if I could touch it. But, as Van Gogh says beautiful things need perseverance and disappointments. It went very far very soon. That day perhaps my journey with my perception of love was till there. 


We'll meet again, or maybe not

But I was so content to know this much, that what I think exist, exists. 

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