Chapter 1

Dear diary...

Several times before buying you, I thought: What's in your head Regina? Don't you think you're too old to have a diary,huh? Stop acting like a confused teenager! I think that even you, my dear notebook of sheets still almost totally untouched, if you were alive, you will be thinking the same and you will be laughing at my face to find such absurd...a woman of my age going crazy and talking openly with a pile of papers imprisoned an inanimate object. But you want to know something, dear diary? I do not care...I do not care in the least to lend myself to the ridicule or anything that means or seems to be. Well it is here with you where I will have the opportunity to act as I could never act out there, in the real world or any person close to me, is here and now, sitting at my desk, in the sunset shelter in my room, with this pen in my hands, my thick-rimmed glasses and my coffee, when I will allow myself to be free, be myself, and finally be able to talk about my deepest feelings and secrets. Get ready, you'll have to put up with me, and I hope you're ready to put up with the kind of heartbreak and lament of a beaten, dilacerated and split heart like mine...a heart that I have the absolute certainty that would not be anymore the same, not after her and the fuss she caused in my life and in my soul...not after Emma Swan.

Dear diary (yes, I feel like a silly girl starting that way, with that phrase so topical, but that does not matter), it was difficult...admitting to myself what I felt for Emma, it was an act of courage. Why hard, you ask me? Simple: because Emma does not correspond to my feelings, it will never correspond and I have full awareness of that, nor could I expect it to be different, after all, who was the cause of all her suffering during a lifetime? For having separated her from her parents? For having made her live a loneliness for so many years? It is because of these and other causes that Emma will never love me, and I also know that I am not worthy of her love. It's exactly those things that I've never had the courage to tell her everything I feel, and I'll never have it. But she loves you, you would probably tell me. Yes, I feel that Emma loves me, but because Emma is good, she has a pure and noble heart, she saw what was best in me and saved me from the darkness in every possible way , but his love for me is that of a friend, a sister...a fraternal love that was born between us since we began little by little to understand each other and to do everything for each other. We planted the seed of friendship and fellowship that gradually germinated. Emma's love for me remained that fraternal way, but unfortunately it was not what happened with me...because my love for Emma evolved to another level.

I love Emma Swan with all my strength and with all the most hidden and secret depth of my soul, depth that hurts me, hurts me and cuts my heart in a thousand pieces, the pieces ?, I can not pick them up...they stay there, tiny and pointed, wanting to remind me how my love is not reciprocated and causing it to bleed until there is even the slightest drop of hope in me...and when all that evaporates, after so much relieving me in sore and hot tears in the quiet nights of incessant weeping clutching my pillow, such a good companion in those restless hours, only the emptiness remains, which insists on telling me bluntly: your body here hides and rests, but what about your soul? That is not here, that lies in a place far away, trying in vain to get away from all the pains and agonies of a platonic love. Sweet illusion...for your soul, which is so determined to protect itself, is only deceived when connecting, even in the deepest dreams, with the mistress of blond hair and bright as the sun and the most expressive green eyes and sensitive that make a single sinking in them is dangerous and there is no return.

They say that the eyes are the mirror of the soul...and the eyes of Emma are the door for the confusion of my spirit. We always had that connection, we never ran away from each other's eyes, but for a long time I have not been able to sustain Swan's gaze with the same strength as before, and I think she has noticed. To sink into those emeralds is to feel my legs tremble, it is to shudder from head to foot in an intoxicating mixture of love, passion, pain and desire ... is to fall into a bottomless pit and no turn, is danger of wanting to scream everything What is stuck in my throat for so long and not being able to do such a thing, is to have the threatening desire to take her in my arms in a hot kiss that shows all my feelings, is to delight in the pleasant illusion of being undressed by her, both body and soul, and being held in her arms so that she could love me, and I, finally, be loved. Undress me, Emma, because that's what I want the most! Simply undress me with your look that makes me feel so peaceful, undress me with your strong hands, and with your body close to mine, undress me of all my clothes, be these visible that cover my skin, be those invisible that I use as a protective layer of my feelings and my fears through faith great walls! It collapses those walls without delay, is what my dilacerated chest screams internally even having the painful conscience and certainty that you will not do me that favor. And for that, I bleed, Emma, I bleed so much ... and only you can cut that bleeding. I protect myself from you, but wishing that you see me, that you see what nobody sees, that you sit me down and that you unravel me ... that you unravel all my mysteries, those in which no one goes inside. I hide from you, but desperately wanting that you find me, and subject me fiercely seeking that you release me. That you release me from this armor with which I covered myself to protect myself from fear before all that I feel for you, and untie the ties that suffocate me within this repressed love.

Loving Emma has been my undoing and my reunion, my pain and also my freedom, in a complex, confusing and tortuous intertwining of different sensations, like birds that fly happily in the open, and also like birds that are wounded in an unexpected attack . Well, the simple thought of his lips touching mine, although knowing that it will never happen, brings me agony but at the same time it brings me an indescribable feeling of peace. A sweet and unsettling antiquity...All right, dear diary, do not worry, I'm fine...just let me live in the sweet illusion of having Emma in my arms and in the dream impossible and distant from feeling the touch of his body and mine and of having impregnated his aroma in my skin and in my soul after an intense night of love. That sweet, wonderful and intoxicating scent of cinnamon that makes me feel more tainted by being close to her...Allow me to dream, just feel the warmth of the touch of dreaming, because I only have that left. It is the closest to what I have managed to get and I am satisfied with that.

Yesterday may have been the worst pain I have felt so far since I keep my feelings for Emma. She has been engaged to Killian Jones, and I found out by chance, when my sister practically rubbed her request ring on my face ... but what surprised me? That would happen someday, would not it? In the end, Swan went literally to the end of the world to save the pirate who owns his heart. I just stand by her side and help her, as I have always done, that is: I was, with all the words, to hell with her and her family to rescue Hook from death. And here they are, now they, enganged and in love, And I, as always, assisting the couple from a box. Maybe that is my destiny: always lose, if not for death, for another person, to those to whom I gave my heart ... it was like that with Daniel, with Robin, why would it be different with Emma?

But I'll never forget that hug, dear diary ... that hug tight and different from all Emma gave me, a hug full of misgivings ... maybe doubts? Or is my head setting traps? I wished her congratulations ... and she, in the middle of my hair, whispered in my ear, with her voice taken and low, only for me to hear: "Do not leave me, Regina ... never leave my side. ... please! "Her words had a huge impact on my heart. As if that were possible, Emma ... as if it were possible to free myself from my perpetual imprisonment which is to sink into the green sea of your eyes, and in the sweet charm of your smile ... I can suffer eternally for you, but, Leaving you? , That is something that in my head I would like to do, but my heart would never allow it.

Regina's Diary Page 1

Flashback on

Yesterday

-Emma- she said with moist eyes, already with her voice taken- I'm happy for you, I really am...- usual words spoken from mouth to mouth, without a hint of sincerity, would it be selfish not to be telling any truth?

Approaching the blonde who looked at her as if she expected some other kind of reaction, I hug her tightly, enduring with much difficulty the tears that insisted terribly on escaping from her eyes. Under the watchful eye of all present in the house, the hug lasted more than expected, as well as hier apprehension was stronger than Regina could imagine. Swan grabbed her tightly, and when the brunette tried to leave subtly, she was surprised by a stronger grip of another, pressing her against the body of the woman who disturbed her whole being. He felt a shudder run down his spine and the air grew thin as he felt the warm breath and heard the almost inaudible whisper of the blonde in his ear.

-Don't leave me, Regina ... never get away from my side ... please! - and after that, before the greatness of the snatch by those words of Emma, Regina only remembers needing the blonde to squeeze her still more, to not fade right there in his strong arms, because the strength in his legs had evaporated.

(Regina)

I needed to take the air, breathe and organize my thoughts that were in total disarray and fought for a certain place in my head. With all the care, I took off my glasses, massaging my temples, drank the last sip of coffee from the cup And with all the appreciation and affection of the world, keep the notebook of beautiful brown cover adorned with beautiful drawings of flowers with the words " Diary-Regina Mills ", in the last drawer of the chest of drawers under some clothes. My newest friend would stay there and rest quietly until his next appointment with me. I locked the drawer and it's hidden in another secret drawer in my dressing room. I put on something light and left for my destination.

That place always brought me a sense of peace ... the hill at the top of the city. From there it was possible to see everything Storybrooke, the small and cozy city wrapped in its moment of tranquility, sometimes, weird, because from one moment to another, everything could change there. That city that I created was a box of surprises. I smiled with that reflection.

The sun was hiding little by little behind the mountains in the distance, bathing the clean autumn sky with orange and pink tones, the little stars in the distance fought to appear, giving that blue immensity with wonderful contrast. the wind blew lightly carrying with it some dried leaves lost and separated from their trees. the temperature was nice. I always loved the fall, and being there all alone is comforting and brought me even a small sense of joy and relief. I managed to smile without having to force the muscles of my face for that, for the first time since yesterday, when I let go of Emma's embrace. I was struggling with myself not to think about how much I would like the blonde to be here with me now, appreciating all the calm and lightness of this beautiful landscape.

In the midst of my dalliances, I was frightened by the touch of my cell phone in the back pocket of my pants, and I see abruptly interrupted in my thoughts.

It odds me and I frown when I see the name that appears on the screen.

"Say?" I answer the fourth touch, apprehensive.

-Regina?

-If it's me...say,Snow. something has happened? you almost never call me on the phone ...

-Excuse me if I bother you, Regina ... I just wanted to talk more privately with you. I did not know if you were accompanied, at the mayor's office or at home.

-Do not bother me in any way. you can talk.

-that ...- seemed embarrassed to utter the words-I wanted to know if tomorrow or last, you could accompany me to buy some things for Emma's trousseau. and I ... Well ... I would like to talk about my daughter ...