Dear Diary.

Dear diary,

Shit happens. People messed up. 

I messed up, too.

And I'm sorry.

I just blurted those words out.

I'm sorry.

It's not really about your hair.

Or your mood swings.

Or who you're having lunch with.

Or even your attitudes.

I don't give a damn, really.

I love you the way you are.

It's just um, lately I've been feeling disconnected.

Disconnected from you.

It's like, we don't even whistle the same song anymore.

We no longer complete each other's sentences.

We no longer share silly giggles over silly jokes.

We no longer, em I don't know--connected?

I am understanding. Trying, really.

You have no idea how hard I tried.

But all we do now is giving each other hard times.

You're getting on my nerves, and I'm getting on yours.

Is it just me or did you notice too?

Why in the world do we did that to each other? 

Sigh.

Only god knows.

Hmm-

Perhaps it's the subtlest way to get each other's attention.

Oh perhaps, it is.

I don't know.

Sigh.

I miss just the whole concept of us, being us.

Well, frankly speaking.

I miss you.