Chapter 4

Dear Diary,

I am seventeen years old now, and I’m feeling a little extra lonely today. I’m still waiting for him. I tried my best to forget him, but it seems I couldn’t—and maybe I never will. Even the slightest moment, like when I hear his friend mention his name, makes every moment we spent together flow through my mind like a river after rain.

His name was the rain.

I’ve met so many other boys who were actually better than him, but still, no one could ever fill the void he left in me. The void he left was only ever going to be filled by him. Only him. I still wonder why he was so ready to choose her over me.

Was I enough? I always wonder.

Does he have any idea how often he runs through my mind? Does he know how I’m yearning for him? Did he ever understand how I felt inside when we talked, laughed, and shared thoughts through our eyes?

Every single day, I keep reminding myself that he’s no longer by my side. But sometimes, I wish I could have kept his shadow under mine. But his shadow left with him. I’m so devoted to him that if he offered me open arms, without a doubt, I would jump into them.

I doubt I’ll ever stop loving him.

Did I really write this? I wondered.

I’m 24 years old now. It’s been freaking seven years.

My God—was I that desperate?

I felt so embarrassed. I covered my face and lay on the couch, flapping my feet as I screamed, “Ahhhhhh!”

“Why are you so childish?” Jim said with a dirty look. “You’re not a teenage girl anymore. Be more embarrassed about what you just did than that letter.”

“Whatever!”

He continued reading my diary.

My diary was actually filled with poems. Third-class poems.

I joined him, and we read together. There was one poem I actually liked so much:

All the way, I be

Never had I forgotten you.

Every little thing reminds me

Maybe you should be mine.

My feelings are eternity,

All mixed up, here and there

Goes flowing all the way.

But I don't know, where?

Imagining things that can't be true.

Making every scenario of you.

Maybe it is unreal,

But it's easy to appeal.

“Damn... Nice one,” he said proudly.

I couldn’t help but smile.

We continued flipping the pages until we saw:

"20/03/2017. The day we first talked."

I stared at it for a long time.

It took me back to that moment, when I was sitting alone on a seat and Jim dared him to talk to me.

It was awkward, but it was sweet.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said with a nervous smile.

My heart beat fast. “He-l-lo!” I replied.

He smiled. His smile was everything. It could light up the whole world. He was neither too tall nor too short. He had a sharp jaw, perfect brows, and a mole under his mouth. I wondered if he was talkative because, in my family, we believed that people with a mole under their mouth are talkative.

The most attractive thing was his beautiful, manly, double eyelids. They caught my eye—I kept staring at them too long.

“What’s your name?” he asked sweetly.

Everything was sweet that time.

“Lissss—” I was so nervous I barely said my name.

“Oh, Liss?” he laughed. “Such a funny name, it sounds like a snake hissing—‘Ssssss,’” he teased.

I couldn’t help but laugh too.

“No, it’s Lissy!” I corrected him.

“Haha okay, Liss. Can I have your number?” he asked.

The way he said ‘Liss’ was sweet. I almost wished my name was Liss.

“What for?” I asked.

He came closer, putting his mouth near my ear.

My heart skipped a beat. Could he hear it? I would be doomed if he did. Please God, save me.

“Actually, I have a dare, and I need to ask for your number. If not, I’ll have to take them to the canteen after school—and you know I’m broke,” he whispered.

“Hahaha... I understand.” I laughed.

I wrote my number with my name on a piece of paper and gave it to him. I also gave him some money, though he kept refusing.

When he finally took it, I was happy.

We exchanged smiles and he walked away.

I watched him go back to his friends. I heard them cheering for him and saw Jim smirking at me.

It was the best day ever. IT WAS.

Coming back to the present—

Sometimes I wish I never met him.

He really made a madwoman out of me.

Jim looked at my wall clock and sighed.

“It’s time for me to go. I’ve got work to do,” he said, standing and putting my diary back on the shelf.

I followed him to the door. He hugged me.