Because sometimes I write mushy stuff.

hadiasdiaryAnd then she realised, letting go was something she could tell herself to do, but could only actually do partially; for he was etched into the crevices of her heart. His name was a thudding echo in her pulse. He was part of her, he made her, whether or not she thought about him anymore.

A monument in the landscape of her memories, he would be something that she chose not to frequently visit, though he stood there eternally.

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Author: emphadiate

Med student, chai lover, avid reader. Daydreamer extraordinaire. Slightly imbalanced.

17 thoughts on “Because sometimes I write mushy stuff.”

      1. I… do not know, frankly. I have occasionally come within a hair’s breadth of penning something, only to exit WordPress after a while. Next time for sure. 😛 You keep on writing, though, maybe I’ll get ‘inspired’ and pick up along the way.

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