When one day my breath becomes air…

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These days I often remember those lines, which I read somewhere, “The lives which we haven’t lived is fairytales for us”, means sometimes we don’t feel the stories of other’s as not real, because we haven’t gone through it.

May be because am a Nurse, I felt like humans behave as true as they are when they become really sick, even the most praised feeling in the world is falling in love..Until you became really unwell, you didn’t know what’s it means, what that story is..

As am a part of my sickness story itself, everything for me is real now. Am feeling the first kisses of Sunlight, watching the romantic moon light spreading on to the clouds of dark sky, the sizzling rain on my big Windows which remains me of falling is also beautiful, being shattered can makes rainbows in the big sky, which my daughter is fond…

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