I couldn't stop crying after the movie.

I was reminded of a forgotten part of myself. The years of struggle and a whole part of it.

Somehow when he just off the lights and went out of the room, leaving me with those words,"I don't care, just go and think about it."

I was just left in the dark room with just me and the memories alone.

The message was clear. He didn't want to know and couldn't care to know.

Ah, bitter sense of abandonment.

Somewhat I remember tasting it far too many times. His action didn't convinced me of any love and neither could I sense any comfort or security.

It was a poisonous mixture of doubt and anger, intoxicated with lingering sadness, my mirrored self in my memories mocking at me.

It's the little things that you do that speaks the loudest of actions.

Once more I am alone.

It's pointless to talk when the conversation ends even before it has started.

The sturdy tree that shelters from the storm, or that blade of grass that bends to the wind's whim and fancy?