Asterix

I'd loved someone ...
I'd received loads of pain in return ...
I'd been tragically unaccepted with my feelings ...
I'd been devastated ...
I'd say history repeats itself ...

But that's not what's happening with me.
I'm getting what most ppl crave for ...
I'm getting what I'd dreamt for myself ...

But I'm unable to admit that it's happening with me.
Do I really love her?
Or is it just that everyone who knows US, knows that I do and I don't acknowledge it?
How can the relation which only gives happiness, be love?

"Ishq ki aag mein jhulse deewano se pucho ...
Voh ishq kahan jis mein dard nahi, tadapan nahi ... !"

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