Dear Diary,

Reading old diary entries is like hugging yourself. You look at the cause, you look at the flaws and you know what is going to happen next, you know exactly what did happen next but you can’t stop yourself from falling in love with the sheer innocence of those words scribbled on the sheets. The hurt may live in you forever, but those words will remind you that everything was not as bad as it felt, everything is not as worse as you had imagined it to be.

It’s a magical experience to read what you felt in one of your most difficult times. It makes you welled up to look at yourself grieving, suffering and wondering if there’ll ever be a brighter day. It makes you cry, remembering the hurt. You thought you had grown past it but in truth it’s still there. It lives as you live and when you try to itch the wound, sometimes it pains.

Reading little pieces of your thought while you lived through the pain is like walking down the old path and watching yourself take every step. Each step that you took then has made you into what you are today and you can’t believe that you came all the way here when it looked impossible one day. Walking down the path brings you in front of the mirror and makes you look into the eyes of the hopeless girl you used to be. You grieve for the girl in the mirror who was silently struggling, suffering, breathing and pulling herself out of the bed every morning. You cry because you made through the tunnel. You cry because you had once thought that you’d never make it to the light at the end of the tunnel.

You read yourself in those words and cry for all the things you had once believed in and how it all was brought to dust. You mourn for the lost innocence. You mourn for the little girl they killed in you, day after day in the same way, stabbing it right where it hurts the most. They killed her through their words when they had known words were all that you had believed in.

And, you don’t want to put that pen down, you don’t want to stop pouring it all on the paper. You don’t want to erase the traces. You want to come and find yourself again and grieve with the girl you once used to be, the girl you’ll be eventually. You want to snuggle in and hug that self; you want to tell her that everything is alright. You want to tell her that you erased those dark patches from your life and that you became your own saviour. You want to make her look that you rose again and became the phoenix you had always wished you’d be.

You want to let her know that after all those dark days, you sleep well at the end of the day. You want to let her know that you have put an end to those sleepless nights and wet pillows.

You want to tell her that you fixed yourself and it’s all well now. It has been for a while.

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One thought on “Dear Diary,

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