quarta-feira, maio 20, 2015

virtual love

She started to write about a faked love, beautifully hand written and tender lover letters, words that would hold the smell of flowers and honey, poems that started by floating in the windows of her room and directly jumped for the ephemeral but the eternal virtual world. In a blink of one eye, her love poems spread all over the social networks. People would fall in love with her idea of love, sharing, liking, tagging and commenting and sharing again in other networks and spread those words like a virus. What did she do? She kept in silence and secret that she was writing to no one. She did try to blur herself, maybe that special one she was searching for, maybe he was out there... maybe her words would reach for him and someday he will answer to them.. silly ideas from a silly mind, she thought, and kept writing in the windows of her room, with her finger, praising him to search for her. He read her. Not across the ocean as it could have happened, but from a different city and a different computer. He started to follow her everywhere he stumbled on her profile: instagram, pinterest, facebook, twitter and others. He was one more of the thousand followers she had in all these networks. but he was the one that understood she was the kind of girl who love to stretch out under the sheets, eating chocolate, reading books and cuddling on rainy afternoons. He knew that words are powerful things that should not be written in a foggy window with a finger. He knew words can break hearts and make panties wet, and so he tried. He really tried. And for a couple of months, maybe for three couples of months, they've read each other trough the brightening monitors. All of the available ones: computer, laptop, tablet, smart phones. He kept trying, he even wrote a book with a full inscription to her. Printed. Distributed in the whole country. He even achieved success with his literally career, she kept writing in her windows and posting it across the web. She read him too. She had doubts. Would this be a coincidence? Could this be happening? She even wished that the name on the inscription of that book was her name, she opened a chat window in her laptop and stood there, with the finger in the air, not being able to draw on the screen the same words she kept leaving in the windows. She closed the program. Truth to be told, she was the kind of girl who love to stretch out under the sheets. He was a well known author, how in the world would he be thinking about her? And so she just kept writing love words in her windows, day dreaming about how sweet a true love could be, but how good it is a love that cannot disappoint you. Both of them still write. She writes for no one and he writes for her. And the whole world believes in such a beautiful love that has never existed outside their own imaginations.
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