Once upon a time, there lived a little girl who, in the absence of a sibling, had no one to talk to but herself. When talking to herself no longer brought her joy, but embarrassment of shame from her peers and her family, she decided to pour her feelings, her thoughts, her joys, and her tears onto the cheap little notebook, which she lovingly called her diary. She would begin her thoughts with two words "Dear Diary". It was like writing to a dear friend. She kept her diary under lock and key, and no one was to ever discover the secrets she wrote in her beloved book.
As the years go by, life got busy, and she stopped documenting her daily life and secrets. Her diary, long-forgotten was hidden under her cheap costume jewelery, the little treasures she bought with her pocket money. It cried out to be filled with words once more, the precious secrets which it could only share with her, and no one else.
As the world evolved, technology took over, and soon, she learned of the term "blogging". She started writing once again, this time, using a keyboard instead of a pen. Yet, she hesitated. It had been too long, could she still remember how to write? But no sooner has she begun, the words poured out once more. She wrote of the apprehension of beginning a whole new chapter of her life. She wrote of her joy and excitement when she met someone. She wrote of a future she envisioned with him.
Yet, this journal was her only companion when he broke her heart. There was no one she could talk to, without judgment, but this piece of technology they call a blog. She kept it private from the people she knew. No one knew of the actual depth of her pain but her blog.
When she thought she has finally moved on, she started writing another blog. One which she could share with her close friends. But no one will ever know of the secrets she wrote in her first one, the one which she guarded closely to her heart. Just like the little notebook hidden under her childhood treasures.
With the letting go of the past, the future was uncertain to her. She wrote of her fears and her uncertainties of life. She wrote of her disappointments when she thought she has lost a dear friend (and her elation when she realised it was not true). She wrote of opening her heart to new possibilities. And with that, new possibilities came, which were so much sweeter than she has ever dreamt of.
Would there be a happily ever after in her story? Only God knows. In the meantime, her dear diary would ever more remain a faithful companion, as it did her when she was a little girl.