And isn't it so? You look for yourself every where, trying to put your finger on that lost thread of memory and just when you do, it slips away. Train journeys are romantic, like that movie where a boy meets girl on a train journey that lasts a whole night and when they part ways in the morning, they become the best of friends. The number of compartments with people unknown, the wonderful probability that one of them knows you in some spiritual, magical sort of way. We expect others to complete us. But why?
I've learnt to stop searching for perfect happiness. Do not tire yourself with it, let it come to you. All you can do is not to hold it out. Embrace it with open arms and rid your heart of the fear of any hurt. Those who dare to keep their hearts out in the wild find happiness as a rapturous adventure.
Stop looking. It will come.
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