It was one of those mornings when I woke up with a thousand different thoughts, and I need to get it all out of my system. It was my own special therapy, my own way of coping, the result of which was an entire folder of half written stories and story ideas in my already old laptop.

It had to be a love story. Somehow I knew it just as soon as  I knew I had to write something. So, my first thought was, as I turned on my laptop, what was I going to write? Wasn't every single kind of love story ever written? What was about my story that would make it unique?

Maybe the way they meet, I wondered. Library was too cliche. In my opinion, people don't meet at libraries anymore. If at all, they go there to not be disturbed. A college canteen, perhaps? 

Suddenly I just knew.

The  two of them met on an slightly weird online chat with other people that made no sense most of the time,  I typed.  The setting  was perfect. Everyone met someone online nowadays. It wasn't too cheesy and it was probable. 

The two of them met on an slightly weird online chat with other people that made no sense most of the time. It was a particularly boring day for her, and she had just met one of her prospective suitors who'd seemed like a good guy, but being the person that she was, she'd expected something more and felt nothing towards him, and she came online to kill her time, and he was someone new . So it was on this day that they knew of each other.

It was good enough. There was a backstory for the girl and it wasn't too shabby. 

He shot her a cheesy pick up line. All pick up lines were cringy, in her opinion, but maybe it was her present state of mind, she didn't know exactly, but  she was amused at the attempt. It was nothing new, but it was all very endearing.

Oh no. Now I was supposed to give my readers (if at all there were any), a super cheesy pick up line. I searched online for a perfectly good one, not too extreme, but a little, endearing one, but I wasn't satisfied. And because I was a lousy writer, I decided to make it mysterious.

It was nothing new. But it was endearing. The romantic in her would never reveal it to others. To her, it was their own special kind of hello. 

The trickiest part of writing romance was writing convos that made sense. I wondered what two completely different individuals would talk about. And the lazy writer in me struggled to think hard.

And so they talked. They talked about something, everything. In the weeks that followed, one'd  think they'd run out of topics, but they didn't. There was always something to say, and something to share. Non judgmental, non fabricated. Secrets were shared, and laughed at (ironically).

'C'mon, lets meet ', said the guy, when they found out they actually lived close to each other. 'I mean, this is a once in a million opportunity.' She declined, due to her own reasons, mainly her  being unable to go and meet a person she couldn't really see a future with, friends or otherwise.

Various things happened. And somehow they both decided they had to meet. She wore her favourite pink top that was a little bit too big around her sleeves, and for the first time saw him  wearing a shirt, in his favourite colour red, in front of the little cafe they'd agreed to meet.

He'd burnt his tongue sipping the extremely hot chocolate that they'd ordered. He spent the entire evening in pain, and no amount of ice water could provide him any relief. It didn't last too  long, as they spent the next few hours at the park talking about everything they could, along with the occasional intentional touch of their hands, legs etc. 

When he took her on a ride on his bike, that was easily the most amazing, exhilarating and awesome thing she'd ever done. Perhaps she had the tendency to over dramatise, but she wasn't lying. Heads huddled together, and talking about random things, this was for sure a cherishable moment.

At this point, I kind of stopped writing. This was turning out to be no different from all the usual stories. The two people seemed to do what all the other people did. There wasn't anything unique about it. This was becoming quite an underwhelmingly average piece of writing, to be honest.
How was my story going to be unique from the rest? Perhaps it could be in the way they broke up? An insanely good emotional breakup scene would make everything better.

On the second day, they semi seriously spoke their love for each other. On the third day. I typed, on the third day they arrived at the park to break up.

On the third day, they arrived at the park to breakup. She had known this would come. She was still sick from the horrible migraines that had affected her the entire night before. She was a mess, felt like a mess, and looked pretty beat.

'I am so sorry. I just can't agree to a commitment with you right now.' He said, sadly but firm. He said that he didn't know what his future was going be like, as he was just starting out. 'And it doesn't make sense for you throw away the prospects knocking at your doorstep, especially for me who you've known for such a short while.'

Was I being unkind in the way I was portraying the boy?

'Especially since we've known each other for such a short while.' The sentence hit her hard. She knew it was no fault of his. He had his own reasons. Everyone had their own reasons, their own struggles that they were fighting against. She understood it perfectly. But it was a sad situation to be in. Part of her was searching for answers. Was it the way I look? Or was it something that I said?  Did I do something? Those kind of thoughts. And a part of her deep inside wanted to convince him, let him know that they were going to make it, and it wasn't at all anything serious like he was saying it to be. Back to normal and how they were before. And she tried.

However, convincing a person to be in love is as impossible as buying love. It would just make things worse. And there was nothing worse than the present state of events. But that's what life was.

So they stood facing each other at the park.

'So this is it, then?'

With a single glance towards him, she turned to leave.

'Yeah. Goodbye.' She said.

I shut down my laptop abruptly. Here I had ventured to write a masterpiece, and all I'd written was two inconsistent characters and a couple of paragraphs of something pretty below average stuff. I'd begun to write a love story, and I was now left writing about a breakup that came out of no where on the third day of my characters meeting. I suppose, that was life. We don't always get what we want. Life goes on, beyond our control, and we go by it.

The more I thought about it, the more another thought began creeping up on me.

However, it was me who was the decider of their fate in my story. As long as I was there, I would do everything in my power to make them happen. Idealism sounds good on paper. Romance sounds even greater.

Maybe the two characters in my story wouldn't work out in real life. Real life was complicated stuff. Maybe their real life would be completely different. Maybe they'd never meet. It was under nobody's control. Nobody knew.

In my opinion, the two people deserved a better fate.

Atleast here.

I turned on my laptop and wrote again.

Convincing a person to be in love is as impossible as buying love. It would just make things worse. And there was nothing worse than the present state of events. But that's what life was.

So they stood facing each other at the park.

'So this is it, then?'

With a single glance towards him, she turned to leave.

'Yeah. Goodbye.' She said.

'Wait.'