Never Regret anything that made you smile.

Never Regret anything that made you smile

She cried. Every day, she cried. Never once did a teardrop fall off her eyes, through her cheeks through the cliff of her chin. She couldn’t get herself to be happy about the things that made her burst out laughing at the most inappropriate of times. Yet, she laughed. She laughed that hollow laugh, her body vibrating, sometimes soundlessly. The smiles might have reached her eyes, but she carried grief around her neck like the mighty Albatross.

She didn’t know if what she was feeling was right in any sense. But such is love. The other person might loathe you and refuse to talk to you, but you can never stop. Once you’re in it, you are in it forever. She guessed she was in love after all. After so many declines and so many questions, she was in love after all. It was only after he left that she sensed what her true inclinations were. So what if he bothered her? So what if they were the best of friends for some time, but arch enemies the others? He always knew what the right things to do to. How?

Sometimes she just felt like curling up in a corner and crying, but then what would she do, after she’s all cried out? Sometimes she just wished she’d never said anything. But wouldn’t he have irritated her further? She wasn’t to tolerate it any further, was she? But now she just wished she’d let it go on. He’d been so easy to love. He just smiled and quoted her favourite movies and authors and she’d smile even if she were moments from bursting out angrily.

She still clearly remembered that first gift he’d given her. It was the day before Good Friday and although traditionally there was no reason to exchange gifts, she’d given her a little present that made her laugh out so loud, that the entire fourth grade was staring at her. It was a pencil of orange and yellow stripes, wrapped in a little red bow with polka dots. Because you always forget to get pencils and keep asking me for mine. She never forgot to bring pencils to school anymore. That pencil was still in her procession, used only for special occasions.

She also remembered the first time they fought. It was about who would get to write in the book of a friend who was absent. All they did was shout and scream at each other. In the end, they ended up laughing so hard that their stomachs hurt and they lost breath, but didn’t care. She still remembered the way his eyes used to close every time he smiled and his fists used to clench every time he was angry. She still remembered the way his left canine tooth was highlighted when he grinned at her after some mischief he thought of. You are in the happy vampire mode! What’s up, man?

Wasn’t it so similar to the last time… He was shouting things to her and she was screaming back. He said things he might never have told any other person otherwise. But she was never any other person. She was, well, her. Yet, they did. And this time, there was no laughter accompanying it. This time, there was only slamming of doors and no picking up of calls and returned notes of apologies. This time, against all her soul’s plea, it was forever.

She sometimes tried to regret having him in her life. She could have saved so many emotional turmoils. She could have seen so many more movies. She could have saved so much money spent on talking over the phone about the stupidest things. She could have done so much more in her life.. She could have. She couldn’t have. I do love him, God!

She tried to regret having him in her life. But she couldn’t. Every time she thought of it, she could hear his voice, telling her Never Regret Anything That Made You Smile. And if he hadn’t made her smile, if he hadn’t made her happy, she knew nothing else had.

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About TheBlackWallflower

I'm just your average unique person. I love to read and write (no surprises there, eh?) and think a lot. I adore Rowling and think Harry Potter should be a religion. I also hate pink. I love fluff generally because it makes me feel intelligent and I love poetry because it makes me feel different. (yes, references.) I'm married to Sirius Black. So I sign myself as The Bitch alarmingly often. Oh, and I love Mr. Darcy. And Jo Longo. And Chandler Bing. And Sherlock. (Yes, I'm a fantard.) And in case you want to drop in a good, or a critical word, feel free to email me: theblackwallflower@gmail.com OR, follow me on Twitter: @WallflowerBlack Enough with the babble. OkBye. View all posts by TheBlackWallflower

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