Why did I tell you again?To fall again and again, but hope never dries up.Why does this futile desire exist in me? His eyes does not mirror mine, and never will. This I know, but the mirage of that one moment where I would stir up admiration never flits away.Every time it is shattered, it leaves behind a damning mess.I beseech prudence to visit me soon & initiate reconfiguration.

Why do I think so much? It only aids convolution. But my unruly thoughts run amok, their mad frenzy out of my reach.I gather one but the other escapes.I wait from dusk to dawn and let them finish their course, and once the last bit concludes, I focus on the demands of reality. Till another slew breaches my feeble defenses and pirates my mind.I run the stories created by the thoughts and  follow them ardently.I watch myself in action, the movie playing along and sit hypnotized till the close comes.So many tales my imagination weaves, and so less time I have!It is a different kind of magic, a world where the illusionist foxes herself...

Rest easy my lovely, I tell myself.'tis but a small hurdle and you have crossed so many bigger ones in the past.Don't despair, healing needs hurt, every crest requires its trough.The rise after is inevitable, so let time flow and wait. Wait for the dissipation of doubts and setting-in of the calm.You know what is hard? Not the nadir itself, but erosion of hope, of patience. Of getting tired of waiting. It makes us give up, it obliterates us.So indulge in false merriment, it makes the wait bearable. Succor will caress you before long and happy times will come into sight.Till the cycle repeats itself.