Of Diaries and Heartbreaks

Diaries are one of the most underrated means of preserving your memories. Some say it is a more feminine trait, keeping a diary but it's worth is irreplaceable in one's life. You can have as many photos as you like, as many videos as you like but nothing compares to the nostalgia which diary brings. As you browse through the pages of your diary, you realize how each day was a stepping stone for growth in your life. Suddenly, you feel that things written a couple of months ago were naive and you have matured drastically in comparison to then. A diary has a journey, journey to unconditionally make your life, its own legacy. It listens to you without any self driven motives,  from past to present and from present to future. It is one of those faithful companions who would, with a clear heart and without any judgement be with you. It also answers the questions which many fail to comprehend. It talks to you; it is the one who empathizes with you at every turn of life. It emits vibrancy with your joy, becomes dull with your sorrow, seems crooked with your anger, and soaks up your tears which fall upon its flesh. You can be who you want to be in front of your diary, you don't need to pretend or hoodwink your emotions from it. It knows of all your sins and virtues, blessings and curses, filth and divinity, fantasies and nightmares. Yet, it divulges not to the world, your truth and lies. It divulges not, your dreams and reality.  As I was browsing through my diary I stumbled across a poem I had written while I was at a stage of recovery from a broken heart. I realize that I had tackled it more maturely than I could have thought when I was in that stage. The poem goes something like this:- 

The shadow follows me on every road,

Through empty hearts and lonely homes.

Once I had been myself,

Full of joy and pride.

Memories fall of the shelf 

With an ugly truth to hide. 

For all the sorrow and all the pain,

The world was a slaughterhouse,

Innocent love was slain.

Betrayal had been my fate,

And trust an ornament to break,

I was just a reflection,
A puppet on a mission.

Dream of rescuing a love so true,
But she had failed to follow through.

So I grew up to realize,
that it had  been a distant lie.

While all my strength only grew,
to make forgotten dreams come true.
An Angel sang that time was mine,

To make my distant future shine.