For a very long time words have been my friend. When no one would listen, when all I wanted was to curl up in a tiny ball and give up, when I was so happy that my heart feels like exploding, when I was so angry or pained that I wanted to cry… it was words that made me fine.

I remember the first time I picked a pen and learned my prose. It was a liberating experience I couldn’t explain. Losing my first journal was very saddening. All those words I lost and could never take back. Finding this blog to write everything I wanted was like finding a home of my own. And during that time when words left me for a while, I was so scared it wouldn’t come back.

But now I feel like lamenting because my words are not just my own anymore. I feel restricted at some point and lost at another. How could one stay with her best friend and not talk about her day? If someone, who was so used to unload her feelings with words was suddenly left without it? How could she get through the worst times? When tears have gone empty and words have failed, what’s a girl like me to do?

Guess I need to find a new hobby… a new therapy.