Diary

It didn’t last long. We stopped talking. You stopped replying, and I don’t know why. You’re probably avoiding me now. I don’t want to be annoying or bother you, so I have no choice but to let the silence creep in between us.

I tell myself I’m distracted. I play games, I stay productive, I keep busy. But I’m still checking for your messages, all the damn time. Even now, as I write this, I’m hoping to see your name on the screen.

I mean, if it’s about the pacing, I’m all for a slow burn. But what is there to burn if you’re already cold?

I say I’ve accepted that to you I’m only a friend. But my heart hasn’t caught up with my head. It’s still holding on, still hoping that something might change. Given how things are now, I know it probably won’t. But I hope anyway. What kind of hopeless romantic shit is this...

Well, I lost. I ate my words about walking away, and I messaged you anyway. Fuck!

Amy said I made the right choice. But did I? Why do I fucking miss you? Why am I feeling like this? Why am I longing for you? What the fuck?

Am I this shallow? Am I this desperate? I hate myself for being like this. I wish I weren’t so soft on the inside. I wish my feelings weren’t this fragile.

And why the fuck am I writing a diary at all? This is such corny shit...

I need to walk away before it gets worse. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t stay friends with you while my heart keeps clinging to a chance: a chance to know you better, to become part of your life, to become someone important to you. A chance for my feelings to grow even deeper.

Why does it have to be you?

Why am I so attached? Why can’t I stop thinking about you? We’ve only been talking for a few weeks. We barely know each other. Yet there’s something I can’t explain every time I talk to you. My heart feels full whenever my notifications are filled with your name.

I don’t even know if you feel the same. You’re hard to read. I don’t know if all of this is just pointless banter to you. But I can tell you this: it means so much to me.

It feels like I’m reaching for a star from far away. I don’t know if this is a good feeling to have. I feel like I might get hurt at some point.

But I’m so into you, Alexandra.

I’m tired. I’m really trying to keep going, but for the record, I am exhausted. Why am I here? Why do I exist? What is my purpose? What do I actually enjoy? Why should I even try? Why can’t I just disappear?