The Pen Gun

Junaid Khan | 20-Aug-2016

I was having a beautiful life where the only thing existed was happiness. Sometimes, I used to go for having tea in my colony with my friend and did a lot of philosophy on random topics and dipped into its nature.

I won't mention his name because his name deserves to be written only in the sky. For us, every day was like a new day into our life and there was no one else. He is a unique guy and entered as an unexpected gift given to me by God.

The Pen Gun

But one day I'd left him in his house and moved back to mine. Apart from that, I had another person with whom I used to share my life's events. She is a girl with whom I kept chatting and realized that I had got all the things which I deserve.

One day we were generally talking as usual. She messaged me and said: "I want a boyfriend.”

I smiled like an idiot and replied her: "I am here, who are you finding?" she was kidding and I kept forcing her to be in a relationship with my essential efforts and finally she accepted me.

That was 31st December, an unforgettable day for me. She started taking care too much as true lovers do. Every minute was like one year I waited for. I waited for her to come online and totally gone mad in love with her. When I felt uncomfortable, I used to read her old chats and got relaxed and started another work. Her chats became lifeline for me that gave me protein and calcium.

Two days later, she did something which I never thought she’d ever do. In a single minute she shattered all my dreams and plans which I made with her and told me that she was kidding when she confessed that she too loves me. I felt numb, the air wasn't breathable and the world was colorless for me.

And then she apologized for her mistakes and cried over voice message, as in front of her tears, my pain was nothing. So I forgave her. I forgave her to destroy my soul. I forgave her to snatch away the smile on my face.

She promised me to stay friends which were not possible, but she knew not: friendship is an after love thing which cannot be possible after love.

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About the Author
Junaid Khan
I don't consider myself as a writer because I just scribble whatever comes to my mind and I don't think that is what writers do. I am 21 and I had started writing 7-8 months ago. I am a mixture of both introvert and extrovert.