The entire month of May has (almost) gone, without me posting a single post.
If I say that I have been meaning to write, that would sound like an excuse to you, but for me that is the fact.. that I have been meaning to write. About what, that I don't know.
The social issues. The emotional issues. The relationships, the dynamics, and the changes.
Life in general, and life specifically fucking me over and over again.
I am coping. Pretty well.
Taking the help that is required to cope in such scenarios.
I miss being in Delhi, where the heat kills you, and not the humidity.
I miss being Delhi because of lack of doing anything better. I have no friends.
The brothers shall move out of the city by the end of summers. And, then, the moral support shall be gone too.
My best friend got lost somewhere, when he turned into my husband, and I am trying to find him.
Also, looking for the happily ever after.. any address?