Then there was this time. At 11:11 I started inking the paper and never knew I would pen a 400 word thing with zillions of emotions I wanted to shower but couldn’t. This has always been my weakest this. I was a!ways afraid to face you in a person. Those Goosebumps I had while writing, were rare. The rarest. Everything couldn’t be penned down. My brain storming itself was the most furious thing that minute. The only reason I started at 11:11 was that the wishes get filled. Never knew mine ever could. I never drew hearts ending it, neither you did. Were you afraid too? Or it was only me who destroyed the tip of the pen after writing? Was it you who wrote me bleeding words with red? Why red? For me it symbolises DEATH. And why grey? It symbolises DISBELIEF & LONELINESS. I knew I had you. Was I still alone? Alone like another girl spending time by the coast? You were great in the time you spent with me. And then suddenly I start to think about life. Times. And love. The times which were content. The time which introduced me love, forgetting the person who taught me love. It was with my 11:11 wish which got into strewn pieces and no one came to hold them back.