Maybe in Another life

der how it feel

es you're gone. I often wonder about that, scribbling the thought in the margins of my diary as if by writing it, I can make the words less real. My

he walls, bare save for peeling paint and a single faded poster, seemed to press inward, crowding

sn't un

wrote them down instead, in letters no one would ever read.

ha

ike a secret I wasn'

n the couch again. The sharp smell of cigarettes and cheap vodka wafted up from downstairs, mingling with the faint mildew scent of the ho

the last time h

r around my shoulders. Loneliness had a way of seeping into everythin

r Dia

ause he's like that. Kind. Warm. Beautiful. Mihai could smile at a bric

om the familiar tightness I'd started feeling lately. A cough bubbled in my throat

clung to my palm, its edges soft and delicate

, I just sta

om feel colder than it already was. "Of course," I murm

y nightstand, next to the stack of unfinished sketches and old notebooks. It was stupid,

words left tonight, only the echo of a cough and th

-

g was the same

ag over my shoulder. The air outside was crisp, the kind of cold that bit at your skin and l

ional jogger. By the time I reached the building, the hallways were already buzzing with lif

slipping through the

notic

ever

pt h

n', Ni

ike sunlight breaking

me, his hazel eyes bright and his dark hair falling messily over his foreh

mumble, clutching the strap

aside to let me pass.

riend in elementary school. The boy who had made me beli

was yea

ber me now. I w

e lead, but I made it to my locker without collapsing. My hands trem

oke t

he speak

es and notes a welcome distraction from the storm in my head. Every so often, I gla

erything

Charismat

too. That was t

dness was d

made yo

re still sat on my nightstand, a stark reminder of the secret blo

r Dia

it breaks you? Because I think that's what's happening to

d my eyes. I blinked them away,

make too much out of nothing, and I let it consume me. That's why I'll never tell him. Because I know he doesn't fe

e page. The words felt heavier than they

and sudden. This time, when I pulled

and white, like tiny ghosts of somethi

time before closing my diary

s felt like

ime in a long time,