Hidden in between the lines of a Sunday: a love story??

I usually leave a white piece of paper on top of my desk to remind me that I have to write on my blog, so whenever an idea comes to my mind, I write it on the paper, and that is how to end up writing the story of the day. Sometimes I have crazy words that does not relate between them, however,  I gather them all, and a great story is born. As well, sometimes I have beautiful words written on that white piece of paper that relate between them, I gather them all, and a horrible story that makes no sense is born. Those are the days that I don't publish any stories. Any ways, today was 6:00 pm and the white piece of paper sitting on my desk was still white. Through out the day I didn't have time to remember any stories that changed my life at some point or actually go out and live any story that could change my life in some way.

Because throughout the day, I was so busy staring at the white screen of my computer that I didn't have time to think on words to write on the white piece of paper sitting on my desk.
Staring at the white piece of paper, at 6:10 pm, made me realized that Sundays have become white days even though out there the sky is blue and there are many colors outside.

So there I was, at Sunday evening, tired from doing homework the whole day, sitting on the floor, listening to Pablo Milanes, and unsuccessfully trying to think on an story to write in the blog.

I started randomly writting and I realized that Sundays are white days.

Sundays are white days in Wingate, that nothing interesting happens.

Here, Sundays are white from all the faces suffering hangover from the alcohol the night before. Sundays are white from staring to a white paper doing the math homework. Sundays are white from hearing the pointless gossips that happened in Saturday night, from watching the same pictures in your Facebook wall over and over, and because nothing ever happens here on a Sunday. Today is Sunday; Today is white. White from the white paper that was supposed to have the story that changed my Sunday, but still white because there is no story; because on Sunday nothing happens. 

Right at that moment, my mom texts me. Right at that moment,my friend comes to the room and tells me a story. Then, I realized that even though the white paper waiting for today's story still white, hidden in between the lines of the day, there are always small stories that changes somebody's life while we were staring at a white screen doing the homework for Monday at 8 am. Hidden in between the lines of today, there was a sad mom waiting for her son to text her because he lives in another country and that is the only way they can communicate with each other. Hidden in between the lines of today, there was a young guy crying because he realized too late that he loved the girl that just left him. Hidden in between the lines of today, there was another guy waiting for a girl to make up her mind and come back to him so he can start loving her again. Hidden in between the lines of today, there was a sweet girl that accidentally broke someone's heart in an attempt to listen to her own heart. Hidden in between the lines of the day, there was a girl that waited for a guy several weeks but he never came to her.

Hidden in between the lines of the day, there were broken hearts, broken promises, and sad stories that bring to the white paper waiting for today's story sparkles of gray color. 

Hearing those stories, made me think that the white paper sitting on my table waiting for a good story, was staring to turn gray.

However, the day cannot be defined as that last thing you heard before writting the blog. What happened today is much bigger than one story. While we are staring at the white screen of our PC's there are many other stories going on that are hidden in between the lines of our day. We don't realize, but hidden in between the lines of a white day, a boring day, as well, there was a husband holding his wife's hand because now their sons left home and they have time to be young again, there was a happy mother that waited one week to Skype with her daughter, there was a grand father sitting with his grandson telling him a story of when he was young, there was girl that realized that she doesn't have to be with someone to feel loved, there was someone feeling inspired, there was someone falling in love, there was a baby being born, and there was someone unsuccessfully trying to write a blog because he can't stop thinking on her smile. 

Hidden in between the lines of a white day, there is as well, stories of  hope, dreams, and love. That made me think that the white paper sitting in my table waiting for a good story, was turning into many different colors. Because hidden in between the lines of that paper, there are stories that paint the white paper not only gray from the sad stories, but also blue from hope, green from dreams, and red from love. Because where there is one sad stories, we can find five more that brings hope to our lives; five more stories that brings colors to a white piece of paper sitting on a table waiting for a story.