She promised herself that she wouldn’t fall in love.
But it was 3 A.M and they were laughing too hard and she felt happy in a different way after a long time.
Then, it struck her that she was screwed!
A lot of things can happen when you fall in love, especially with a writer. Because they are a basket of emotions. That’s the thing about writers. You can never really previse them.
They can love you to the moon and back or go about ignoring you for days together. They are capable of converting your smiles and tears into metaphors and hyperboles. They will not leave any stone unturned.
Falling in love with a writer is the most beautiful and the worst thing that can happen to you. Because they will kill you with their drama. You might often have to run on all fours to catch up with them.
They are the ones who would wake you up to make fried momo’s at three in the morning, call you up in the middle of a busy day to apologize for a fight that happened 3 lives before or make love to you at 8 in the morning after you are all dressed for work. They are the ones who would slide hate-love notes into your pockets, write you a 5-page letter with correct punctuations when you disappoint them, kiss you a mouthful and later write about it in their book. That’s them and the saddest part is you cannot do anything about it.
When a writer falls in love, they fall hard. They will write, write and write about you. Sometimes you’d be the protagonist, sometimes the little child and sometimes the antagonist. Sometimes it would be you, sometimes it won’t. You would see bits and pieces of you everywhere. They would write about how they’d caress your baby hair and kiss you on the forehead, about how sexy your early morning voice is, about how you’d stir your morning coffee deep in thoughts and how different you smell. You’d see your mannerisms, your habits, your thoughts spilled across everywhere. It would be so much that it would suffocate you.
They will sometimes want you all and sometimes push you off completely. Because writers as such are confused people. They would love you with their perception of you. They will cut every scar of yours, make an ink with your blood and expose you in ways you might not even recognize that it is you. They will carve every passing moment with you into a poetry.
They are the ones who would drive your insanity to a thousand decibels and suddenly push it down to zero. They would love you in a way Jane Austen would write about love in her books, in a way Shakespeare describes love in his sonnets and most importantly in a way you can never forget.
They will remember the moment they fell for you. They will remember every detail of it and kill you with it. Because they knew what it is to fall in love even before they did. Take them or break them, their stories will still revolve around you.