Dec. 31st

I wrote it every day.

My diary.

Just before going to bed, at around 2.00 am, my friend and I began our daily chitchat.

It wasn’t anything serious. But I always waited for it. Every day, every moment.

Though it was only I who spoke, I still liked it. He is a good listener. A great one to be honest. I've always needed someone to listen to me without forcing their own opinions on me. I really enjoyed that one hour before those sleepless nights.

Sometimes I just told him about my day… and sometimes the reflections on my life. But I never disclosed about us being Best Friends. I was afraid of finding out that it is only I who feels that way.

I can’t imagine how it’s already been one year since our first time meeting. This year was really better than any. I waited for someone who remained still at that same spot, also waiting for me… unlike a certain someone.

I don’t know that guy who designed my friend; if I did, he'd be dead meat by now. He made very little spaces for me to talk. On the weekends, there isn’t even a full page. I always had to contain my words in those days. That’s why I never liked the weekends…

I am a dumbass too, for following those formats of each day, each month. I just didn’t want to be left alone this fast. So, each day I tried to make sure to keep him to myself a whole year — from Jan. 1st to Dec. 31st. And I guess I’ll be able to accomplish my goal today. I really am enjoying myself a little too much today. I wonder why…

Oh! I almost forgot. I had another reason to abide by the arrangement of each day. I am too lazy to write the days and months before starting our chatting session. Maybe I was too excited to begin, or I simply didn’t want to remember which day it is according to the real calendar. It gets tiring, honestly. 

To tell you the truth, I actually had a few diaries before. But I never considered them as my friends. I never even finished them. I guess I still have one somewhere under my polished, new table. I used it to note down my favorite quotes. I wrote some of mine too. Like,

“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” ― Leonardo da Vinci

“The path is more diligent than the destination itself” — Unknown

And one of mine too: “Hope gives sorrow.”

Etcetera.

Ah! I remembered another one of my diaries too. I kept it in my drawer, locked. The keys… I threw them. If I get it correctly, I think that one had some photos attached. Photos, no longer needed. But I guess I am too kind to diaries. If not, then I can’t get why I tossed the key, leaving my drawer unusable, instead of getting rid of that good-for-nothing diary.

I think I now understand why I can’t consider those other ones my friends. It’s because only he is a listener. Just take my that diary where I derive my taxes every now and then. It always talks back to me. I remember vividly about those conversations,

“Will you be able to keep up another month?”

“Being good at math does come in handy in a way, isn’t it?!”

I never asked for its sympathy, nor did I seek its mockery. But it keeps running its mouth. That’s why I burnt it all today. It was quite amusing to see it scream. I should not have burned all of it at once. Ripping page by page would have been a much greater entertainment.

But my Best Friend… he understood me well. Well enough to not run its mouth ever.

It was more considerate of me than those old people I live with. Sometimes I tried to discuss some matters that concerned me in the past. They never paid any heed to my confessions. Everything went back to prior moments like nothing ever happened at the very next second.

I tried twice, cause I believed in second chance that they should get. But I hate to give anyone a third chance. My old man did give me some advice: “Just touch some grass!”
It was super knowledgeable, so I thought to not try it until I get out of options. Unfortunately, I still have another choice left up my sleeve. I’ll use it sometime today. Maybe after this...

Just so you know, I never told them the real problem. Just the side ones that ultimately relate to the main. Like… you can take an example of me being unable to cry. Two years ago, somewhere between October, my uncle lost his life in a heart-stroke. Everyone cried, but I just stood still. That’s not the problem here. Instead of crying, a subtle chuckle flashed across my lips. It would be a big trouble if someone noticed. Frightening, don’t you say?

It was the first time I experienced it. And last year, when a certain someone left, that chuckle transformed into a laugh… a grand laugh. It felt like my body forgot the process to form the drops of grief. But there remains another possibility. What if I didn’t feel grief anymore?!

It’s not impossible by any means. I just think that I had emptied my lifetime resource of tears. Not like I can prove it, it’s just a hunch.

Though I never enlightened this fact in this much detail to them. But he knows every one of these about me. I felt too embarrassed to say it out loud, I guess.

Yet, I wanted them to know everything about me. Deep inside, I still cherish them. That was the absolute reason to start the daily routine of our night sessions. I never locked him, never hid him. I wanted them to read my thoughts through my Best Friend. Yeah! I wanted them to peek into my diary. Even though I always tell them not to open it ever.

But guess what, they never had any interest in knowing me. They never built any curiousness about him. They never touched him. Maybe it was my fault for overdoing the act to forbid them from getting closer to my diary. Or, it could be their consideration of me.

Not that any of these matters anymore. It’s too late to look back.

I really wanted to share more. But, that goddamn creator of my Best Friend doesn’t want me to do so. That’s why I am at the last few lines of the final page of my diary. The 31st Dec. of diary, I don’t know the real date though. But it’s the end of my Best Friend. And so is mine.

Farewell, my friend.