Special.

It's 12.57am and I still can't stop thinking about you.

The way you gently tugged at my hand just so we could run and dip our feet in the sea. I remember giving in and then getting my jeans wet when an exceptionally large wave hit us. The warm water on that Sunday evening felt great on my toes. The smell of salt in the air was so refreshing. I craved pineapple achcharu. And our laughter rang in our ears long after we got back home. I closed my eyes and felt the wind whipping at my face. Breathing it all in. Savoring everything like as though I would fight so hard to keep from forgetting that moment. I opened my eyes and turned towards you and laughed. I didn't know what I laughed for but it felt great.

And your smile haunted me even after I woke up the next morning.

And throughout the whole day too. No one figured out the reason behind my smile and I kept it a secret. My very own secret.

You were special.

maybe. maybe not.

Dear diary,

There are a million things I would like to do and get over with.

A million little things to shed some tears for.

A million little things to scream out loud.

A reason to feel alive and not vulnerable.

A reason to cry out whatever you're feeling deep down inside.

Let the tears out. Don't bottle them up. Never bottle them up.

A reason to understand your life better. To understand why some people have to be the way they are. Why some people have it easy and some don't. Why some people pretend to be alright when they really aren't coping up well.

And why some people aren't really what you thought they were.

Love, Sarah.

x