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I’m filled with emptiness. I’m laughing, talking, eating, sleeping, writing, but that’s all I do. I have nothing to look forward to, I feel like I’m losing my best friend and I try not to be sad about it. I try so hard, my heart cannot take it. I know I will never lose him, but I can’t have him too. He is there, but almost never here. I want to feel like I matter, like I mattered before. I want to matter to me. I want to know who I am. I want to fall asleep and dream of a better life, and never wake up.  I think I’m losing myself. 

I want to know what it feels like  to be a stronger person. 


Who said goodbyes are forever?

Last night out of sheer boredom I logged in here and re read all my posts and comments, and it dawned on me that I had been missing out on one of the very good things in my life and I hadn't even realized it.

I've been good, and bad. Life keeps happening on its own, takes its own unexpected highs and lows whenever it wants. I've been writing a journal, probably one of the many reasons of my absence here. But I promise to not leave again. Because I Love you, and I have a lot to tell. For now, let’s just start with Hello again.

BTW did I tell you I’m a sucker for nail art? What’s your guilty pleasure? 


Grieve Future, Grieve.


I don’t know what a broken heart feels like. Or maybe I do but because I feel it too often, I am incapable to differentiate it from other mere feelings of sadness or hurting. But how can sadness be just ‘mere’? Whenever I’m sad I long for an overwhelming compassion and words that are beyond the amorous movies, beyond this mortal earth. Perhaps that’s what adds to the tragedy, wanting the things I can’t have. Expectation has been my biggest let-down.

I’m afraid of the very same things that I want. Because I don’t know if it is right to want them. Happiness is best if shared, they say. But how about it when there’s nobody to share it with?

Loving someone just got uglier.


Touch me.


I’ve always been an optimist, or so I hope, but this year has just been a disappointment, the impact more so when you are just too damn optimistic all the time. Sometime reality kicks into my system and everything before that feels like an illusion.

When people stop doing the things they used to do, the reaction begins. An entire period of over-analysing, self-assessment and everything possible to find out what the reasons could be. And instead of finding the answer, I’ve gotten hold of some questions.

I'm not a zealot but one would wonder if their significant other stopped being physically affectionate, wouldn’t she? I hope things go back to how it was. Till then, I'll just come in here and absorb your Love,  while I take off my lingerie and keep them aside for another expectant day.


It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to.

Every day, inevitably, I draw closer to an impending chapter of my life. I just don’t know whether to be happy or sad about it. My Mother gives my Brother and I a lot of formidable advices and I’m not sure if my Brother dwells over it as much as I do, but I do. On many occasions she has told us that if we truly want something and work hard towards it, God helps us unfailingly to attain the same.

Perhaps I’m the little optimist like my Father, because I have faith in the little things that people deem hopeless. When you come from a little family like mine, in a little town, you are familiar with the annoying but ever so common innuendoes like ‘what will people say?’ I believe in magic, good magic. It happened to me 5 years ago. Magic exists amidst us. We call it God. If I were granted three wishes or more or less, I’d like to first wish to rid of the current mind-sets of a lot of the inhabitants of my little town so that people like me and K could have no qualms about our choices and decisions. My Mother, (cue family) falls into the list too, sadly. But I don’t blame her. 

Tomorrow I turn 21, and March hasn’t been good to me even for a day, starting from Day 1 when I lost Dobby. I hope he knows how special he was to KS and I. That we miss him dearly.


Set my Secret free.


Every summer my Mother and I talk about the little things like little people in a little town. Talking less and debating more, but hearing out each other nevertheless. Today I have a million and one thing to tell her and, God forbid, all hell will break loose.

I’ll be graduating in a month, after I turn 21 first and nothing tastes of independence more than telling her about the intricacies of certain things in my life. You’d think it’s easy because they say the truth will set you free, but it also shatters one into a million little pieces.

I’m not afraid about her reaction and the multiple coaxing to change my mind thereafter. I’m only very afraid that she will fail to see him the way I do. And the view from up here is breath-taking. Touch-wood.
I hate keeping secrets, especially mine.