There was a man I always wanted to explore. I had seen many glimpses of him while I was in college. There was something addictive about him. Somehow when we got in touch, we became friends. Eventually we got into long conversations and the more I conversed with him, the more I thought of him. I realized he was giving me happiness. He gave me a chance to know myself again. I was a depressed soul and he was aware of it.
He became my serendipity.
It felt as if I was dealing with some mysterious person. To all he was a kind of hard core, practical person. But I was in denial. To me he was a complete emotional package. I started connecting with his heart. Gradually I received warmth and contentment. Ever since I met him I started getting positive vibes. I knew that there was something magical about the time we talked, the time we spent, the time we laughed together. And yes sometimes there was dead silence as if we both had fallen asleep talking over phones. It was all bombardment of happiness and mirth. I started realising my existence. I felt complete. He completed me.
There was a man I always wanted to explore but I ended up exploring myself.