It's Feb again!

This is the year that I turn 26. It's a bit scary but somehow uneventful.

I'm not the most mature person out there, and birthdays usually make me giddy with expectations of fun, fun, FUN things (that I planned for myself). But this year I'm kinda down in the dumps.


Fingers crossed I'll be happy on the actual day. ^^

- word barf 2 -

She doesn’t want to forget. But she wonders if she’ll remember her own writing.

“People write song about girls like you.” Is the first thing she writes. She remembers his over confident face, ruined by unfocused eyes and the heavy reek of alcohol that seemed to physically waft around him. She walked away with a smile, shaking her head at his pick-up line. She looked back once and saw his crumpled face, disappointed and dejected, as his friends surrounded him, laughing pointing good naturedly. On impulse she strides back towards him and kisses him, fast and hard, before walking away once more. Laughter and whoops of encouragement from the strangers that would one day become her friends accompanying her walk.

She wonders if her diary will read like a novel. She wonders if she’ll ever really understand how important those first words were for her. If she’ll remember her own misery that night, and how he made her laugh.

She writes carefully, chronicling every moment of their life together. Pen on paper, as physical evidence.

She doesn’t want to forget.

- word barf 1 -

You don't know if it is a good thing that she stopped screaming. Because now she's working her way through the pile of magazines that sat at the end of your bed. Tearing each page calmly, methodically. A serene smile gracing a face so at peace that it doesn't quite match her disheveled state. You tried to hold her hands earlier but a flicker of intelligence in her eyes stopped you. Just let me be. They seemed to plead to you, nary a word spoken. So you sighed, and stroked her hair gently.

"I'll be right here." And you wonder if this time... You wonder if this time she'll come back to you.