How can I enter, if you refuse to open?

When you look at someone for the first time, you don’t know if they prefer tea or coffee or if they have pet dog or if they like yellow lights and antiques. You don’t know why they love the colour orange or why they prefer long walks on seashore at night time. You don’t know what makes them laugh hysterically or why they have invisible cracks on their body, you don’t know their reasons to be broken. How on some day they feel the world beneath their feet and on the other days the very same feet tremble on the bathroom floor. You don’t know why they incline towards moonlight over sunshine. You don’t know why the cold side of the pillow makes them believe in magic. You don’t know why they are suddenly happy when the clock reads 11.11 or why they fear the dark. You never get to know anything remotely substantial about a person on the basis of their looks –none of the immaculate details that define them, anyway. All you get to do is assume, and hope you get to walk past facade, and into their soul. Once you reach there and exist along with their deepest, darkest secrets and extreme vulnerability, you get to know them for who they really are.

Only then, you see them for the first time.

Only then you know why?

Only then, you fall in love.


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