The Women I know.

Women are always unidentified. They never allow anyone to find their inner self for their reasons to be them! They make their own rules to remain unknown. From my life, I know (If I’m not mistaken) two class of women. Among the identified two, one cluster is the ones; somehow, or at certain point of time were with me for not any of my personal reasons. They liked me, or not; I believe, they are my friends. I’ve a unique place for them.

The other one which I know (the ‘exclusive singular’ which I’m taking for the other kind) is the one I believed as mine for my special excuses. But the problem is that she wants to be in my first cluster. For my preferences she remains a difference. We are extremes in my preferred group. Who said opposite attracts! (Even if the fact remains true that in me ‘nothing special’ that shimmers.)

She taught me that love is always kissing of two hearts. It is. She reminded me the love is yet not a selfish desperate yearning of a single heart. “When you feel blossoming of a spring in your heart alone, never mistook it as love.” She whispered. I always find it hard to believe why she remained as the one who loves to say ‘love me not’.

When ‘More- than – a – friend’ dilemma confuses me, I’ve no other countenance to search for or to be replaced; to soothe my heart’s undocked pain. For me she is always an answer for my unawareness. She made me understood that it’s hard to know a woman, and the women is not the one which I pre-conceived as. She is the one I love. Now I know, as she believes; “I don’t know her!”
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