She...

P(re) S(cript) : Written under the effect of a night spent peering at a blank computer screen and reflecting on why I do what I do, maybe some gentleman by the name of Freud deserves some credit as well.

[Warning] Gossip mongers and nosy pokers take note please, there's nothing in here you might be interested in...so if THAT is why you're reading this, kindly make a hasty exit. Else, if you do have a little taste in life, read on...

She maybe a girl far away, or someone living just round the corner. She may be a person living, or lived, or yet to be born. She may not even exist at all, or maybe existing for eternity for me. She may not be a person I know, not a person I have met yet, she might just be a concept. She maybe a sister, a mother, a friend or no one at all, her existence maybe just a mere figment of my silly imagination.

But she lives through me...she lives in me.

She inspires, she creates, she loves, she nourishes, she brings out the best in me. She whispers love in my ears as I fall asleep, she dives into my dreams, and wakes me up gently from the sweet slumber each morning. I live with her aura all around me, protecting, caring and nurturing as ever. I work for her, write for her, create for her, think for her, live for her.

Maybe you do, too.

I love her. Absolutely. Madly.