Before his hands…


Before i met him the past, the present and the future were all knocking at my door but i just couldn’t open.

Before i met him it was as if some crucial pieces of life were being kept away from me on a safe box, and i was living with only half the sense of things.

Before i met him all food tasted the same, all days tasted the same, all boys tasted the same. And i wanted to get out of that “same” room but the door was locked.

Before i met him, but not anymore.

How can some people not explain why they love someone?

It’s so simple.

His hands were the key.


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