FB Post Kese Likhe

FB Post Kese Likhe

FB Post Kese Likhe

FB Post Kese Likhe

"He posted a pic on insta today hahaha." "Kuchh logon ki baat hain" He usually started with asking about how much time it took to go to school or work. 

Once, when I had told him that I couldn't call anyone, he questioned if I was alone and if I needed help. And once, he even messaged my mother to check if I was alone and needed help. To all this, I always replied with a truth, and then he would just look at me expectantly and say, "Waise toh itna bhi kar rahe ho?"

(So, you are not alone?) That was nice. I would then tell him that no, I was not alone, I had a companion, a very intelligent and a loving companion, and that she is equally to blame for how silly she makes me. I would say that sometimes she also makes me laugh, and laugh and laugh. And we would laugh together. He would ask me questions. He would say, "Whatchya busy with? Haii?" And I would tell him, but mostly I would just look at him while I'm typing. I would look at the "reply all" button and then back at him. I would ask him why he kept checking and then wait. He would wait for me to tell him what I had been busy with. 

Sometimes, I'd ask him why he was asking me questions all the time. I would ask him what he wanted to know. He'd say that he didn't know what he wanted to know. He said he just wondered. I told him that I wondered if it was because I never replied to his questions. He said that it was not. He said that he just wondered what I was doing and why.

 And he said that he understood. He said that sometimes he wondered why we had never met in person. He asked why we couldn't meet. I said that I would tell him. I said that I'd tell him all about it. He said that he hoped we would soon meet. He asked me what it felt like to see a picture of me. I told him it was strange, that sometimes it made me think about the fact that I had never seen a picture of him. He asked if he could see a picture of me.

I said no. He said, "I don't want to see a picture of you. I want to see you." And then we would laugh and giggle. He would ask me what it felt like when he saw my picture. I said, "It's different. Different when you look at me. Like when you see a person in a dream." He asked me what it felt like when I saw his picture.He would feel it. I told him that I'm sure that I would not be able to see my mother's face while I was smiling at his.

That she wouldn't even be able to see mine. But he would definitely be smiling at me. He would be smiling at me. He'd be smiling at me. His smile would make me feel special and happy. And then, I'd feel something else. Something unpleasant. He'd

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