They stood there, all smiles, eye to eye. They knew they belong to each other. Love, that’s what they called it. Not just any random coincidences, just fate it seems. Written fate. The legendary and elusive “meant-to-be”s and the “one-and-only”s. They’re having it. This is love.
Happy. That’s the look they’re giving each other as they stood on the overhead bridge. All smiles, their eyes met. She put her hand around him as he leaned on the railing. He caressed her cheeks and she smiled, then put both of his hands on her face and pulled her close.
And they kissed.
Such longing kisses. Not filled with lust, but with sunshine, with warmth. Pure innocence. Happy. Joy. That’s what they’re giving each other.
And I watched. Don’t which hurt most. The fact that she’s kissing him? Or the fact that this is love, yet not mine.
Love, she found it. The other half of a heart is not with me, but with him. Not me.
I smiled. At least, one of us is happy. Finally, a happily ever after. Just that it doesn’t involve me. That’s all. Sorta like reading a fairy tale, seeing others happy yet, being the bystander.
At least she’s happy.
I swear, totally fictional. But I really saw a cute couple tonight. They guy is Malaysian, the girl is a Caucasian. Really saw the way they looked at each other, saw that happiness in their eyes. Saw that
“happily-ever-after-walk-towards-horizon” thing.
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.
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