A boy meets girl. That same boy likes the girl. The girl likes the boy; for a bit. He likes her back, only for a bit longer.
These are stories of promising starts. A story like this will usually include something about endless night-time walks in narrow forgotten streets. Somewhere in between those walks would be a time for a loving stare. Destiny would help by creating a power grid surge and ensuing a black out. A boy would then stand a foot apart from the girl he likes, a girl who likes him back, under the sheer darkness, only for a bit. Then nothing would happen and the moment would pass.
Sometimes the story would take a sunny turn. But it would be the wrong city even if it were the right sun. The sunlight will illuminates her eyes but also her frowns. This girl wants a bad boy. This boy wants to be good to her. So they both will try to be someone they aren’t. This is a story of a high effort start.
Another start would be her head resting on the boy’s shoulder when the boy least expects it. Again, the boy likes the gesture. So he likes her, only for a bit, and for a few mornings after.
Real love stories end. They end happy or they end sad. But they certainly end. The love in the story doesn’t end but rather transforms into a story of its own. But the “love story” ends. Non-love story likes the ones mentioned here before only have promising starts. But because the middle verse is so unsubstantial, the poet doesn’t even bother technically finishing it. It then remains an open ended story.
And that is no story at all.
most unsaid ones are just promising starts. The remaining ones end, as you say. I'm trying hard to find the goodness in starts, perhaps, its the fact that they don't end…but then, I amuse myself often times…
And I suppose we all do. the what ifs are interesting only on boring Saturday afternoons.