Today started like any other casual conversation. A group of friends, random topics, laughter drifting in and out. One of them spoke about a girl he likes—how her eyes pulled him in. Sharp eyes, innocent eyes. The kind that make you pause mid-sentence. I had seen her too. Barely two days. Not long enough to know her, but long enough to notice something rare—an honesty in the way she looked at the world. And then today, we saw her again. She was sitting beside a boy. Sharing food. Laughing softly. Close—not the distant, harmless closeness of colleagues, but something warmer, something familiar. I don’t know why, but the innocence I had noticed earlier felt… absent. Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe it was overthinking. I do that a lot. I know. But here’s the thing—I’ve wanted to be wrong so many times in my life. Desperately. Yet somehow, I’m right every damn time. Maybe that’s why I trust so few people. Not because I think everyone is bad, but because I see patterns before others admi...
An open diary where thoughts flow like ink—unedited, unscripted, unforgettable.