April 1,20xx

~Sometimes, you don't need to believe.

Sometimes, you don't need to work.

Sometimes, you don't need to prepare.

Because that time, you receive something

really precious....A gift~

Diary,

Today, I finally decided to open you.

All these days, my heart yearned to touch you and open you, but my mind said otherwise. The reason being that you were too precious to lose. I didn't want to use you. I didn't want to even touch you with my dirty hands. I didn't want you to be cursed by my bad luck too.

But all my thoughts turned to dust when I remembered him saying, "Rikka, this is my gift to you. A diary, for you to record our love."

And unknowingly, my fingers traced a crease on your snow white papers. Your leather bound cover was stark against the pure white of the blank pages, as if begging me to write on them.

Let me introduce myself. I'm Rikka, an amateur philosophist. Sounds strange? I know. My official job is that of a writer, but I call myself a philosophist, because no one knows me better than I do.

My life, isn't one like the main characters of a famous novel. I'm just an artist striving to make a living.

My parents passed away in a car accident when I was five. Since then, I was tossed like a parcel to all my aunts and uncles' houses. It was tiring, but I soon got used to it.

But then, in my boring life, entered a person shining like a beacon. Clichéd, I know. But it was true. He was literally shining, because he was covered head to toe in glitter.

At first, I didn't bother much about him. It was only when he spoke, that my attention got drawn to him. His voice was what made me fall in love with him.

It was rich, smooth and deep, like honey poured over ice, with a twist of cinnamon and spice. I shivered lightly, a warm tremor overtaking my body.

It felt like I was drinking a warm latte on a rainy day. The atmosphere was dull, but the latte made it better.

And I was dying. Dying to take a taste of him. Dazed, I went to get my latte, but instead stumbled and fell down.

The moment when I felt everyone's eyes in me, my face burned in embarrassment. I could tell,tell that he was looking at me too. Somehow, it made me feel better.

And that, Diary, is how I met my first love.

• • • • • • • • •

May 1,20xx

~Each step taken forward, is also a step taken backwards~

Diary,

Your slightly dusty covers made me guilty enough, to write on you once again.

Do you know? After the day I first met him, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Day and night, my mind would wander to his face, lips and voice.

'Was this just a physical attraction?' I asked myself.

But as usual, my mind refused to answer and my heart gave in to naviety.

I called it a 'crush'.

Foolish of me.

It wasn't something simple as a crush. Rather than happy, I felt tense whenever I saw him. My heartbeat quickened,hands started to sweat and I stumbled at times.

But then, when his eyes met mine, everything stopped for a while. The noise from the kids playing, some girls laughing, a guy beat boxing.... It got silent.

The only thing I could hear was my erratic heartbeat and the feeling of my heart thumping against my chest, almost painfully. A slightly accidental, slightly purposeful brush against him, almost made me combust.

His skin was warm, just the perfect temperature I liked before drinking my latte. Cream coloured skin glowed slightly and his hands hasten to take hold of me.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Why?

Because I stumbled.

Yes, Diary. I stumbled.

Just like I had when I first met him.

Flustered, I remember apologising. Whatever happened later is a mystery to me,because I couldn't remember. His eyes had held me captive and I could only stare like a fool at them.

He laughed, seeing my dumbfounded expression and patted my head.

That one simple pat left me breathless.

My hand tingled at the parts where he had touched me.

And from then onwards, I was a goner.

• • • • • • • • •

June 1,20xx

~Slow, but steady. That's how life rolls~

Diary,

Would you believe me if I said that he fell in love with me? Sounds far-fetched? I thought so too. But it's true. I pinched myself multiple times, just to make sure I wasn't dreaming and I wasn't.

Was I happy?

Without a doubt, yes.

His eyes, that shone slightly as they gazed at me, made me slightly tearful. There was no such happiness as having one's one sided love returned.

My heart swelled, to the point that it might just burst any moment. But it didn't.

And voila! Here I am Diary. Two years have passed since we started dating. His voice still makes me want to embrace him and he still likes to tease me about our first meeting.

We had our fights too.

We were like any other couple out there, the perfect amount of romance, perfect amount of squabbles and the perfect amount of emotions.

But it was too perfect....

And we were too naive.

Diary, he hid something very important from me.

What he wants to keep a secret, I'll let him keep it to himself. My only fear is that it shouldn't cause any problems for us.

Because a bond is as thin as a thread... Easy to break and hard to make.

I can't let go of his cinnamon scented shirts or him. Why? Because, today, I've reached that point where I can no longer survive without him.

Like a drug. A latte flavoured drug.

Funny, right?

But not when you realise it's actually true.

This has far crossed the point of cracking jokes. Even the philosopher in me, can no longer write without him around.

Diary, Is this bad?

But even if it is..... The reality cannot be changed.... Or should I say, I don't want reality to change.

• • • • • • • • •

July 1,20xx

~When someone close to you dies, a part of you shrivels up and dies with them~

Diary,

I found out.

I found out what he had been hiding from me.

Tumour.

He was a brain tumour patient.

And he never told me. Not until he fell unconscious and had to be taken to an ambulance.

He didn't know. He didn't know how I felt when the doctor asked me 'What kind of a person are you? You don't even know what your lover is suffering from?'

My hands trembled.

I blamed him.

Yes, I did.

But I loved him.

So, I stayed quiet and bore all the complaints.

I could only pray, pray that his operation would be a success and that when he returned back, I would scold him to my heart's content.

Maybe God or whatever supreme entity lived up, took some pity on me and to my joy, the operation was a success.

I sobbed and sobbed, the tears finally escaping my eyes.

That feeling of relief was like nothing I had ever felt.

• • • • • • • • •

August 1,20xx

~Rough it may be, but patience is the key~

Diary,

It's been another year.

My luck is no longer cursed.

Do you know?

Yesterday, I got engaged.

Well, I didn't receive the ring yet, but he did give me a verbal proposal.

Was I happy?

Definitely yes.

Tears dripped down from my eyes as I held back from bawling in his arms.

It was because finally, I would have a family of my own.

I had already planned our family. Three kids, two girls and one boy. The girls would protect their brother. Because this here, is the women's era.

He smiled on hearing me. A simple kiss made me shut my blabbering. I slept peacefully that night.

Next morning, I took off to my best friend's home. If there was anyone I wanted to inform, it would be her.

But her reaction, was something totally unexpected.

• • • • • • • • •

September 1,20xx

~There's no such thing as hope. It's only false encouragement that one gives themselves to save themselves from falling apart~

Diary,

My life is a lie.

Dramatic?

No.

Do you know? That feeling of despair that comes when everything you had is gone forever?

It's that feeling which makes my body quiver at night and shake violently in the morning. My dreams, my hopes, my love... Everything... Disappeared in a moment.

When I went to visit my best friend, she had a frown on her face. Her eyes had traces of pity on them, as I related to her the incident.

What she told me later, made me go into shock for a long time.

She said that he, my love, died a year ago.

I couldn't comprehend.

What did she mean?

'Rikka, you're schizophrenic.' Her voice rang out clearly near my ear and my heart stopped for a millisecond.

NO, NO, NO!

I refused to believe her.

I refused to believe he was dead.

I refused to believe that one year of my life, had been nothing but my imagination.

I had a seizure.

A few days later, my brain finally recovered.

And I had to accept it.

The truth.

First, there used to be the fear of me losing him.

And now, there's the fear of not knowing what's real.

Are you real? Is my friend real? Is this reality? Am I figment of my own imagination? Is this all a dream?

The questions are endless.

But for a disillusioned heart like mine, they no longer hold any importance.

• • • • • • • • •