Love in a Diary
You think you're smart.
Oh, so smart.
You think you can't be mistaken, because you are just so clever. You are the good boy, the one everyone loves. And nothing can compare to "the boy-who-lived".
You think you have everything you need, friends, lovers, god-fathers. You think I have nothing but an oversized ego…
And then again, you're right.
I have no real friends and my father is an egocentric bastard who only wants to turn me into a miniature version of himself. As for lovers… don't get me started in this area.
But it doesn't matter, because in the end, happiness and completion are highly subjective notions. It doesn't matter whether or not I have friends, whether or not I am loved.
Because I have him.
Because I can write to him, because I can feel him, see him whenever I close my eyes. Because he is there, right in front of you… and you will never catch him.
Because there is more than meet the eyes.
I found love in a Diary.