she and her nostalgia I

she ran back home, flipped open her diary and wrote her tears away.
it was the first time being ostracised by the whole class, but sadly not the last.
she wrote about how she refused to give up on her childhood crush of four years six months and offended the most popular girl in class.


so there she was sitting all alone in the crowded canteen on the first day of term 3 with hate letters from all her closest friends.
the floodgates could no longer bear the weight of her overloaded sadness and bewilderment.
she had no time for questions, let alone answers.
fatefully, under the rainy grey skies, she had not an ounce of energy left in her to hold her head up; no discerning power to know that even if the whole world is against her, she may not be wrong.
knowing she could no longer travel home with the childhood crush, she ran all the way home by herself, running not to God but to the little diary she kept since 7.

at that time, the little diary is her only comforter.
if only..
if only she had known God earlier..