It is rather true that in life, in majority of cases, one�s expectations have come as one had desired, but if one goes through his existence, it could be noticed that; in fact, our expectations have realized but not through the means or people that one desired at first.
And, this story is about a lad whose dream was so high, but his desire was about the essentiality of life.
It was countless times that he had awaited, in the morning, standing up before the window of the living room, until he saw her leaving her home to work.
She was so beautiful for him that eclipsed any beauty or thing important around, but there was no hope for him.
He was just an adolescence who was in love with a mature woman, or at least, older than him, who, perhaps, dreamed about a family and was searching of a husband. And he was just a lad in high school. So he was just able to daydream.
One day as he was writing a composition an idea came to his mind - according to a line that he had read somewhere, if one wrote his desire on a paper this would come true. So he planned to write a love letter to himself believing that it came from her.
And he did so. A letter of sweet words that knocked him out of his feet, with kisses on the bottom, and a despairing declaration of love for him.
He had posted that letter to himself.
The following morning, as usual, he had done the same routine, but with one thing different, he waited for a letter.
A lovely girl had crossed the window until his door, but before she slid the letter through the slot, he had opened the door, and had seen a lovely girl of blonde hair and blue eyes that came to deliver his letter. She was pretty but not so gorgeous as his beloved and dreamt girlfriend.
So, the writing of the letter and the girl who handed it to him were things added to the routine of waiting to see that beautiful woman.
It was uncountable times that the lovely girl walked up to his door with a letter that almost a friendship had sprouted between them. But without a hope for the post girl who thought that he should be mad about that girl whom wrote to him almost every day.
On those fleeting few minutes - when she was under his frame door, they shared laughter, sadness and a sort of rare feeling. She had planted the seed of curiosity for her inside him.
He had begun to focus himself on the delivering of the letter that he forgot to be attentive to the beautiful woman.
One Sunday, he was sad and lonely at a coffee shop in the town, when the post girl had run into him where he was seated. He had invited her to have a seat at the counter, and she had asked about his sadness that his eyes conveyed. And shyly, he had told her about the letter and his love for that woman that lived over the road, who was about to marry somebody.
For that pretty girl every word that he uttered was so sweet that it was not a delirium every single line that he wrote to draw the unreachable woman�s love to him.
After that day, there was a sort of complicity to see each other, their friendship had turned out into love, and he had forgotten that beautiful woman who drove him mad.
Years later, he had become a famous writer of love stories, and by his side, it was that pretty girl who helped him to find love.
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