Within the orchids of new vulnerable relations, lies the acrimony of their fragility.
When, at the pinnacle of experiencing her budding friendships, she comes across a facet of misapprehensions. Never knowing what was occurring in the rear at the time she thought everything was on the rocks with her friends, a volcano was already erupting to swoosh away the beauty of this benevolent relation called “fresh-ship”.
Distance is the testimony of candour of whatever exists in some relationship, be it a friend, be it love, and be it any other attachment of sorts. It’s always a perpetual decision at the moment when one thinks of fostering a tie-up with someone or something. She too, was bubbling on the desire of accelerating her “fresh-ship” the instant she would see them again. But time was trolling its way through a lot of chalk and cheese. Everything had already begun to transform in this fresh-ship to down-beats, rolling its way to unprecedented erroneous beliefs where it was succumbing to a down-trodden mayhem.
She came back only to witness the fresh-ship to a stale progeny of cut-offs and separations. She, now, ponders on a hope to mend the bond of her already-distrusted- friendship to a beaming terrain of leading this fresh-ship to friendship. The faith she has lost over the span is turbulent to come back, but a fine thread of linkage, she assumes, still subsists round the corner. She believes.