there they were, in a place between the heavens and hell. they were a hit, even talk of the town:

two clearly different persons who (perhaps, not instantly)shared affinity for each other.

like the sun and the moon of lengthy difference, yet such beautiful complements.

both of them had their own fractions of solitude and despair, both lived two worlds at one time trying to create a masterpiece of misfits.

unlike the ideal happy ending, they got swallowed in their selves, afraid to love and be loved. he was afraid to be tied up to her, afraid he'd never feel his valor- his manliness in swimming in a sea of women and admiration. perhaps, a little of flings and whims and what not.

afraid to swim in love.

the sun finally started setting, and her own beginning had to end. unfinished, she drowsed in sleep and held her dreams as if they were her last chance,

to ever get him back.

the story tells its own. uncovering the uncovered. this story is a story never written with facts but with false hope and true love. this story was hers.

untold

to him.