To the girl by the windowsill,

As your teeming eyes trace trailing water droplets on the glass, I know of the hundred stories you weave with them. Of a warmer response to the awkward nod you passed at the cute neighbor's 'what's up' this morning. Of an alternative ending to the embarrassing arguments you ended up in; on your last date. Of whether the white dress will be too simple to wear for the party next week. Of whether you should even go?

If every thought that crossed your mind were a star, we would have been surrounded by a mesh of uncountable galaxies. And there you sit- the creator of this colossal world - as if a powerless damsel.

That outer facade of a loner, who has nothing to contribute to a conversation; belies the narrator in you -who screams a new tale every time she witnesses a sunset, a new poem for every time she falls in love a new tune for each season.

The earnest and emo philosopher in you is always veiled by the winsome you; trying to fit in with small talks.Dancing to the cacophonous band, with a bright red smile in a dress that is smaller than the interest you have in the evening, you manage to convince them that it is not killing you inside to not be under the stars instead,humming old tunes.

Well, let me tell you; that it is okay to not be understood by many. As long as you are saying your story; unafraid of what others make of it- I'm sure it will resonate with the right one. However if it does not- Don't worry! Hang in there...Because you are not here to win hearts, just sing your tunes and rock your own world!

Hello from the other side,

A loner too.