Dear Diary
Journal Entry: 22 April
Dear Diary,
That it’s over.
That he left without a goodbye.
That there was no explanation.
That he no longer wants to know me...or have me in his life.
People leave. I know that. And sometimes not because of you, but because of them.
It should be okay.
I should be okay.
But I’m not.
Was it me?
Did I say something wrong?
Did I do something wrong?
Was I just a bad habit, a convenience, a guilty pleasure?
What was the tipping point? Was it the boundaries I needed in place? The disrespect, the casualness, the callousness of my words when I felt threatened by being undervalued?
Or was it my demand that you change...to accommodate my insecurities...and to my surprise, you did?
Was that the beginning of the end?
Is that where the erosion set in?
So many doubts and old wounds resurfaced when you disappeared without a word.
Or maybe I was too much.
Still too much. Still not enough.
Without the words of endearment.
The emojis and memes.
The breathlessness and the want.
The 3 a.m. conversations.
The check-ins, the teasing, the laughter.
My name in your mouth,
Rolling off your lips like honey...
The short commands.
The headiness at the sight of your name.
The way your voice wavered between unsure and demanding.
Your eyes, deep green pools that pierced into my soul, but never revealing your own.
You came to me disappointed: “WOW!”
You fell off the face of the earth...
And resurfaced a different man, in a different suit, commanding audiences that weren't me.
A little jagged. Maybe a little burnt.
But fierce. Fearless.
I am soft, yes, like pink petals.
But I carry thorns that draw blood from careless hands.
Always,
…
Dear Reader,
Do you feel like you're going to burst?
Or are you so numb, you fear you’ll forget how to feel?
Maybe it’s time to write it all down. Every last aching thing.
A quick reminder:
It is necessary.
For your peace.
For your energy.
For your future self, who will never again beg someone to show up for you.
But know this,
You were never too much.
Because some things aren’t meant for the group chat.
Because your healing is too sacred for Instagram quotes.
Because clarity doesn’t come from scrolling, it comes from sitting still with yourself.
You are allowed to hear your own voice before the world tells you who to be.
Not everything needs to be shared to be valid.
Healing is messy. Nonlinear. Deeply private.
The page doesn’t interrupt.
The page doesn’t judge.
The page doesn’t leave you on read.
Because the things you don’t say, rule you.
Because the story you write down… becomes the story you rewrite.
You are not your past.
You are not your worst day.
You are not your fears or your insecurities.
And choosing who to become next.
Burning it makes it gone.
Rewriting it makes it yours.
Write It Like You Mean It
Prompt 1 The Door Closes Here
“Where am I still leaving the door open for people who walked themselves out?
What would it look like to close that door with softness and finality?”
Reminder: Closure is yours to give.
Prompt 2 Stop Romanticizing Red Flags
“Where have I mistaken inconsistency for passion?
Where have I called emotional unavailability ‘depth’ because I was lonely?”
Reminder: Chaos isn’t chemistry.
Prompt 3 Soft Heart, Steel Boundaries
“What does it look like to be soft but not gullible?
Loving but not waiting?
Available but not for crumbs?”
Reminder: Protect your tenderness like treasure.
Choose your prompt. Pick up your pen.
Let the healing begin,
imagiNari
Thanks for this
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome x
DeleteThat's great! Thanks for stopping by xx
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