Dear Diary,

A fresh start…  

Dear Daisy,

I have wanted to write you a letter. Well, I have written many letters to you, but unfortunately, most of them are gone now. This time, I think—no, I hope—this will stay here forever, just like what Ma'am Carmela told us.  

I have always yearned to write because it’s the only way I can truly express how I feel. It’s so liberating. I feel so authentic every time I pour out my thoughts and feelings, as if I’m letting my little demons out for a while. I used to write very sad poetry back then. Thinking about it now makes me cry because I really miss my old phone, where I stored all those feelings of sorrow and anger. It was my only outlet at that time.  

I remember the stories I tried to write down. I remember those nights I sacrificed sleep just to give life to the stories inside my head. That cellphone was my best friend. It was where I read stories that touched so many parts of me, and it was where I let myself *be* myself. The relationship between me and my cellphone was tragically beautiful. Sometimes I wonder if my cellphone ever misses me. Funny, isn’t it? But I do. I miss it because I had written so much of myself in there—my emotions, pure and raw.  

I miss the way I was before. I want to look back at my words and see how much I’ve changed. I still remember fragments of what I wrote, but nothing compares to the sentimental feeling of holding on to those old pieces. I still long for that part of me, and my soul will forever haunt me nostalgically.  

Writing, for me, is very special. It’s a way of letting my heart and mind speak. Writing is where my mind is loud but at peace. It’s where my haywired thoughts become untangled. It’s a process of unraveling the chaos within me and turning it into something that makes sense—something that feels real. Writing has always been my safe haven, a place where I can be unapologetically myself.  

I think back to the nights when my only company was the soft glow of my phone screen and the quiet hum of the world asleep around me. Those were the moments I felt most alive—pouring out my heart, giving shape to my pain, joy, anger, and love. Each word was a part of me, and in some ways, I believe it still is. Even though I’ve lost those pieces, they live on in my memories and in the person I’ve become.  

Now, as I write this, I feel that same spark, that same connection to myself that I thought I had lost. It’s comforting to know that no matter how much time passes, this part of me remains. It may have changed, matured, or grown quieter, but it’s still here. Writing will always be my companion, my solace, my truth.  

So, dear diary, this is my fresh start. A new chapter of capturing my thoughts, dreams, and experiences. I don’t know where this journey will take me, but I promise to keep writing, to keep untangling, and to keep finding pieces of myself along the way. Here’s to the stories yet to be told and the emotions yet to be explored. Let’s make this last forever.  

Yours always,
Daisy