From each letter of your unsaid words trickles a sense of disillusionment, as if each letter, if it could fly and reach me over a millisecond, it would sit on my phone screen and peep into my eyes to check if I am really not deceiving you. {But I am not.} And the other day your letter asked, in a way of complaining, 'you don't text anymore',
I just said, 'I don't.
Because
I
Write
To
You
In
Different
Way.'
... coz Believing is Experiencing !
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