My mom always told me a love story. Once upon a time, In a small village, there was a boy and a girl. They fell in love with each other at first sight. Their love was so deep that they just had reach other in their eyes, however they still couldn't be together due to their families.
They got married to different people, were loyal and dedicated but their love was only for each other. I never understood if it was fair to themselves or their spouses. Maybe they couldn't not love each other or they never thought about living anyone else.
I still wanted to have that type of love, a love so deep that it could give u the greatest happiness. Maybe I might have it someday or maybe not. But I stopped having that thought after breaking up for the 2nd time.
I was still happy and lively but stopped thinking about love. My life was just about working, reading novels and cooking and then I died. I fucking died after such a boring life and opened my eyes in an unknown place.
I was happily humming a song on the roof of my building eating ice-cream and suddenly my nephew started jumping around. He suddenly went near the edge of the roof and state tiptoing to look down.
I ran towards him but he got on the railing. I pushed him on the roof but I slipped and fell down from fifth floor. I think I hit my head. It was painful at first but then it became numb and I closed my eyes.