At times I wonder how you soak in everything that I have to say, so gracefully. Good, bad, silly, fun, mean every single emotion is received with thorough patience and maturity. Though the exchange rate between us is unfair, for you remain just as blank as the very first time I started scribbling my thoughts on you. Over the time you've recorded some of my deepest secrets and vulnerabilities that I've never allowed anyone else to see but what do I know about you? Nothing..absolutely nothing. Every single day I turn a fresh page in you with the hope of stumbling onto a long forgotten quote, couplet, scribble, phrase, anything that could let me get a glimpse of what lies in the depths of those blank pages but, my luck never favors me.
Though no complaints, as returning to you with a bundle full of cryptic thoughts is like coming home to a place I've known...a warm welcoming comfort zone where all those puzzled thoughts can be arranged or at-least poured out to lighten the soul.
So with the hope of finding something about you amidst those bright blank pages someday, I take your leave for the day..will see you soon; hopelessly addicted to you.