"She had an overwhelming desire to tell him, like the most banal of women "Don't let me go, hold me tight, make me your plaything, your slave, be strong!". But these were words she could not say.
The only thing she said when he released her from his embrace was "You don't know how happy I am to be with you". That was the most her nature allowed her to express."
The unbearable lightness of being - Milan Kundera
dear diary,
remember when you used to be my friend? remember when i used to promise i would talk to you daily? remember when i used to read you from time to time and actually feel good? where have you gone? or better said, why can't I find you anymore? sure, you're still there, you're still in my laptop, the purple notebook is still there, waiting for a sharpened pencil to leave its mark on it, but where has the magic gone?
dear diary,
today i missed you. today i missed writing. today i wanted you back.
dear diary,
can I tell you a secret?
dear diary,
what is wrong with me? cause I'm fine....
