On Chesil Beach

I haven’t sat down to read a good novel for a very long time, partly because I am very particular on what I read other than the hard core educational categories.

The book was given to me as a gift on my birthday this year. The story was beautifully written with every single detail attentively crafted. I was immersing myself in the literature highland until I hit the last two pages of the book. To my greatest surprise, when I turned to the last two pages of the book and revealed the true meanings the story was trying to tell, I was stoned. “Only a few feet and forty years away …” What has twisted the time tunnel and parted away the two? I immensely understand the frustration, the despair, and the furious the writer tries to convey … that is why I cried. Or maybe I just easily let my tears out these days – too many harsh things to take care of.

I don't believe in novelised love story. Yet, I believe LOVE and PATIENCE should be the substance of every long lasting relationship. Currently, everything is like deja vu to me. I would rather give it a distance.