I miss you.

Dear diary,

I miss him.

I miss  you. I miss YOU.

I’ve tried not to, God knows I’ve tried. But it just doesn’t work. The prayers, the beef, the tears, the hate, the anger…all sum up to pain.

I try not to get jealous when I see you smile at her the way you used to smile at me. I put my head down as I listen to the songs we used to play, for fear of the people around me seeing the tears well up in my eyes. I miss the laughter, the fights,the arguments,the hugs, the talks….how I miss the talks. About everything and about nothing.

 I wish you could hold me the way you used to, love me the way you used to, touch me the way you used to.

I wish I could turn back the hands of time, to a time when I had something to look forward to at the end of my day, when I could rely on your warm embrace to take the ache away. I wish I didn’t have this knot in my stomach right now as the flash backs of a better time keep running through my head.

I miss you wiping away my tears. I miss you understanding me more than anyone ever did, probably more than I ever understood myself.

I still love you. And darn, I miss you.

Annoying I tell you!

Dear diary,

I’m trying to find out which is more annoying;

1) Faking a smile everyday when all you really want to do is pull yr hair out, scratch your nails across a chalkboard, scrape a saucepan,(or something to this effect, you catch my drift)

2) Secretly harbouring feelings for the cute guy who is always in your face but knowing he’s engaged to be married any day now.

3) Constantly bump into a guy you once had random drunken sex with and he thinks this gives him the right to throw you a wink here and an ass pinch there.

Come to think of it, they are all extremely annoying, but (3) happened to me this morning and I am seething!!

And then there was emptiness.

Dear diary,

It’s been a while since I wrote, partly coz I have nothing to say, and partly because I have a lot to say, but I just don’t feel like saying it out loud. I would imagine that’s the kind of thing that brings on pressure, heartattacks and what not, but sometimes it’s just easier not saying things a loud, it makes them less real.

I feel the need to always supress tears. I am in a state of fear and discomfort with my life, especially my job. I feel so unappreciated. I keep trying to think back to a time when I was happy, and I keep wondering if that time actually ever existed.

Drunken stupor.

Dear diary,

The title of this entry is a wee bit dramatic, but true. I know it’s absolutely not right to have a hangover on a bright and sunny Wednesday morning, but nonetheless I do. Still partying like a rockstar. Oh, and paying the repercussions.

Someone give me strong black coffee, NOW.

Monday….not again.

Dear diary,

It’s Monday. As much as I’m grateful for another week, I can’t help but feel so low. My weekend sucked. I’m not going into details, but I’m so sick of this.so sick!! Do u ever have that feeling you just want to pull your hair out? Stand on a roof top and I don’t know, jump down?

I am in a very dark place right now. I want to switch off my phone, lock myself in my room for a week, and make everyone who knows me forget I exist, I think I owe them that much.

The last place on earth.

Dear diary,

Like I might have mentioned before, it’s usually the person whom I least want to see, I end up seeing the most. I bumped into my ‘accidental kiss’ guy last night. I’m not really the best at making the best out of a sticky situation, but thankfully he is. Life went on as it always does, like nothing ever happened.

I should have been relieved, right? Weirdly enough I felt a strange pang, it was almost as if I wanted him to acknowledge our little rendezvous? Weird I tell you.

I’m going through some sort of transition phase, I want a new career, new man, new car, new, um, life?

Look on the bright side?

Dear Diary,

Kampala is HOT. I mean blistering hot. So hot I want to stick my head in the freezer for the most part of the day. So hot I’m thinking of shopping a whole new wardrobe containing only vests and short shorts.I’m sure my colleagues would have a field day.

I’ve been wondering if there’s anything worse than bumping into and old boyfriend. Scratch that, bumping into an old boyfriend who has moved on to a younger(not necessarily hotter) chic, or who has just plain moved on. This happened to one Coco on Monday evening. I was rooted to the spot. My right leg started shaking like crazy. I felt anger, pain, anxiety, failure, pity, all in one heart beat. I felt a huge boulder at the pit of my stomach.

I think I’m moving on. If this had happened last year, I most likely would have had a totally different reaction. I would have gone home, cried, scrolled through messages I had failed to delete for months, cried some more, then finally gone to the bathroom to wash the evidence off my face. But I’m proud to say I’m past that. It still hurts, but not as much, I still reminisce, but not as often, and my tear duct is dry. I don’t cry over him anymore.

I’m looking on the bright side.

The weekend.

Dear Diary,

I had a great weekend. It started with a ‘concert’ that was supposed to put all other concerts to shame, but it was unbelievably disappointing. No sooner had we started screaming our lungs out as he belted out one liners from his songs, I glanced up and his crew was packing up thier equipment. Can anybody say RIP OFF?

I enjoyed myself. I kinda over did it on Saturday night, ended up kissing a guy who has been a friend of mine for a while, so now I’m faced with the burden of avoiding him until further notice. I proceeded to have the worst hangover of my life on Sunday, but woke up bright and early today, and my morning’s been good so far.

I’m sure I’ll have a lot more to write later.