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Today I found my old diary.
Memories crashed over me like a tidal wave, suffocating me. I couldn’t breathe. 

it’s the realisation of giving someone your all,
but still not being good enough.

I believe, that is what hurts the most. 


One Comment

  1. I have a couple of old journals too and I am actually afraid to read them again… Yet these journals are such a genuine form of writing. They’re simply beautiful. I could relate to what you wrote and I think one of these days I will actually open those journals. If it’s helping in any way… all those feelings of yours turned into beautiful words. Good job!

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