I was touched by the story and I don't even know why.
The characters weren't real. The situation itselt wasn't real.
But there was something that moved me.
Truth to be told: it took me 4 whole months to read it.
A boring story. Introspective shy girl falls in love with a cool and smart ass guy.
Ages later they end up together, but for both sadness, or mainly his, she dies.
Just like that. She dies. No more details about her death. Run over by a bus or car.
I don't even know what type of vehicule hit her.
Although it isn't really relevant. It doesn't change the facts.
Dead love. End of story.
It took ages for him to realize his truly lover was there forever.
His eyes didn't want to see it. Just friends, he thought.
Years wasted on friendship.
Friendship wasted on silly hugs.
Real love hidden forever.
On little talks.
So I cried.
Can you imagine that?
I've always thought that was a cheesy thing to say or feel.
Crying because of a book, which turned to happen a major picture thing.
Tears screaming down my face. Sliding down my cheeks.
Filling with sadness the old mouth - that early on that day was so used to smile.
Sorry, for being such a whiner, dear friends, but I burst into tears.
For no apparently reason.