So I stopped writing for the newspapers some 3years back now. I have been asked the same question over and over again, ‘Why don’t I do what I loved to do?’ And every time I surprised myself by giving an answer, which was both different and true everytime I told them.
Which brings me why I started blogging in the first place. So that no one knows it’s me who’s writing? Or so that no one doesn’t know about it at all?? Maybe 🙂
Which bring me to the topic why I started writing this post on the first place. Being sad sucks. Specially when the other person knows about how you feel and doesn’t do anything about it, except over look it completely.
At times, I ask myself, why do I worry too much?? Because when I care for these people, I don’t hold back? Maybe.
Because they are too close to be avoided? Maybe
Maybe I love them too much? Maybe.
I am always taken for granted?? Maybe
I guess I won’t be missed when I am gone.