Me: So, I think you are avoiding me.

She: You know I can’t, even though I want to, I can’t.

Me: I thought of making you more beautiful, elegant.

She: I wish to be free, not beautiful, elegant or gorgeous or anything!

Me: What’s wrong in here? I can provide you all want. Anything you need, anything at all.

She: Stop saying that. And stop being a fool. Stop lying to yourself.

Me: But I love you. I do.

She: Even you know we can’t be together, you know we aren’t meant for each other.

Me: What am I suppose to do then?

She: I don’t know.


(In a get together on a Saturday evening)

Friends: So what’s up, what are you working on?

Me: I am writing a story where a writer gradually falls in love with his new creation. A female protagonist.

Friends: Wow! How it’s going to end?

Me: I haven’t thought about it, still working on it.


She: So I have to die?

Me: Yes. You have to commit suicide, by hanging yourself.

She: How could you be so cruel? Just because I couldn’t love you back……

Me: No Nikita, not because of that, because that’s what the story demands. You know me.


(Few months later on another get together)

Friend 1: Hey, so at last you finished the story. I must say the ending is kind of sad. The demise of the central character, I don’t know how the other readers will take it.

Me: Well, that’s what the story demands.

Friend 2: Hey, sorry to hear about Nikita, she was such a lovely girl. I heard you were fond of her, my condolences.

Me: Yeah, she was a lovely girl indeed, she was even my inspiration.



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