10th April, 20??
Never have I ever…
Dear Dia,
Your anxiety to bear my words this night is almost palpable. Like a living, breathing thing, I can feel your pages eager to be imprinted with my words. If I didn't know better, I might say you are a gossip, but far from that.
I understand your plight, it must be draining and boring. Sitting here all day, resting on the drawer, waiting for my familiar hands to graze your pink cover. For me to flip your pages and for my cursive writing to once again fill your pages.
I once heard, or I think I read it somewhere that a promise made, but not fulfilled is a sin. I don't know if that's true, but I have heard people say that it's better to not make a promise than to make it and not fulfill it. And if not for these platitudes, I probably won't be writing today.