‘We can’t meet. We can’t survive. It wouldn’t happen ever, the chances of existability are bleak, too good to be true.’
His eyes wouldn’t meet mine, fingers entwined, free, trying to pick up a pen, then putting it down, he was fidgeting.
‘Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t even try.’ She was determined.
‘Because we’re like the train tracks, we run parallel, we understand each other, we’re supportive of each other, we can’t do without each other. True. All of that and more. But we just can’t meet.’
Boy, did he put up a good fight. But she was raised a stubborn kid.
Deep breath.
‘But you know, you see, if carefully, in perspective, the lines do meet, intersect. There’s that one point. Happens. You just need to be standing at the right place with the right person and looking in the right way.’
A smirk and she knew she’d won.


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