Serendipity

-

 



For me, serendipity means you✨🌈


A happy accident, how ironic is that? A few accidents do actually turn out to be happy. Did my heart race the first time you liked one of my posts? Did i experience butterflies in my stomach the first time you responded to my stories? Did my heart flutter a little when you first started speaking with me? Maybe or maybe not... Although the silly first experiences haven't been particularly interesting, have you ever considered what might have happened if such first experiences had never occurred between us?


What could cause someone like you to find me when browsing social media sites with thousands of users? Destiny? Fate? No, it was an accident... A joyful little mishap. Before you happened, i was only capable of loving unconditionally. But i discovered how to be loved without conditions after meeting you. Your meagre attempts to comprehend my insecurities make me feel happy a bit. I never grew tired of listening to the song ever since you had shared it with me. The song serves as a constant reminder of all the charming little incidents that brought the two of us together.


I begin dreaming of you next to me every evening as the sky becomes various shades of orange, crimson, and purple. I secretly long to be cuddled in your arms every time the lighting strikes with a loud bang. I want to keep telling you, "Isn't the moon beautiful?" whenever it shines brighter than the other days. And i suddenly feel the impulse to write a letter to you whenever my heart feels a little down.


Getting to know you was an accident. It wasn't my intention to fall in love with you. All the wonderful moments I've had with you came about by accident. However, each of these mishaps made me happy. And these little unnoticeable accidents were nothing other than fortunate gifts of serendipity.


@_arushmita_

PS: this is gonna stay here as a memory.......... 

Happy Birthday 🫶🫰

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I talk like I belong there...🍂🥀

-
Image
  I talk like I belong there...   We don’t talk much about these homeless kids- homeless, despite living in royal palaces, rooms decorated with gold, silver, platinum but never love. We don’t talk about how these kids get everything, but never affection.   They roam around, like nomads in the urge to discover the slightest source of warmth; warmth that might finally melt the glacier growing inside them   for quite a few decades...   They are blinded by the shine of ornaments, yet never had the chance to witness the shine of glittery dark brown eyes asking in whispers about the cuts on their wrists. None of the birthday gifts ever screamed joy into their ears.   The playlists hum about the internal chaos, unnoticed by the passersby. The ceiling got carved with stories of sleepless nights; knives bear imprints of failed days; the mirror catches glimpses of unaesthetic breakdowns.   Kitchen pla...
Read more

Clutter...🍂🥀

-
Image
  Clutter 🍂🥀 I am a clutter . Of all who loved me. Of all who didn’t know how to. Of the yellow flower, I kept too close. Of the book that smelled like heaven. Of that cat, who snuggled by my feet once. Of the pillow that held me better than most people did. Of the broken person who scratched my heart over and over again, Like they were looking for something inside it. Of that starry night painting, I stood in front of too long. Of the soul music that kept me up when silence got too loud. Of the stars that I never stopped counting, Because they felt a little like home . I am a clutter. A clutter that doesn’t want to be cleaned. A mess made of moments and memories, Of people who stayed, and people who didn’t. Of things I still carry, even when I say I don’t. Yes—I am a clutter . Of me , And myself . @_arushmita_
Read more

The last meeting...🍂🍁

-
Image
  The Last Meeting... There is a theory called  "The Last Meeting", it suggests that once a person's role in your life is fulfilled, destiny ensures you never cross paths again. I often find myself believing it. My first love - tender, innocent, woven out of the sweetness of teenage years; vanished with the ringing of the last exam bell. That was the final time our worlds touched. Since then, though we have lived in the same colony, not even a fleeting glance has bound us again. It feels as though time itself conspired to close that chapter. There was also my best friend, a friendship that both scarred and shaped us. It both broke us and helped us to grow at the same time. On lonely nights, I remember the details, but only faintly. I don't really remember how her hairband swept her hair away from her face, and the hair waves just rested perfectly above her forehead. A decade has passed, and all that remains is the ghost of those ordinary, intimate details. Honestly, i...
Read more