The Occult

  That love. That admiration. That feeling which makes you feel little and the other is the biggest. You feel insecure and that person is your guardian. That feeling when you stand and stare at nothing waiting for that voice from behind, even by the meanest words. That endless time you spend waiting, and nothing really happens. 

  Mirror can't say the reason. TV shows can never narrate the story. The words are unable to act the racing heart and the breathless slow moves, stepping away. That moment when you feel they are the clouds, out of your reach. On the other hand, you feel you're powerful and you, actually, work hard to get closer, but you're like gravity, even if you reached the extremes of effortful trials, distance between you can never lessen. The sky and ground can never collapse. Even if it happened, it can never reach the core of Earth where gravity's throne is.

  It's nature's decision to put your story among the impossibilities. It's fate's selective choice to add your fantasy to its incomprehensible encyclopedia.