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"Dear diary,
I'm in Morocco, it's been five days.
I can still smell her perfume on my t-shirt. I don't think I'll ever be able to wash it. I can still hear her last few words. "You're not alone anymore", she said. It's true, but I'm afraid a part of me will feel alone forever."
I'm in Morocco, it's been five days.
I can still smell her perfume on my t-shirt. I don't think I'll ever be able to wash it. I can still hear her last few words. "You're not alone anymore", she said. It's true, but I'm afraid a part of me will feel alone forever."
"Dear diary,
Today is my eighth day in Morocco and I left the house for the first time. I didn't know where I was going, I just started driving. Until I saw it. Our beach. The beach we went to together years ago. I felt like she was still there with me. I might go back tomorrow"
Today is my eighth day in Morocco and I left the house for the first time. I didn't know where I was going, I just started driving. Until I saw it. Our beach. The beach we went to together years ago. I felt like she was still there with me. I might go back tomorrow"
"Dear diary,
Day 13th. I can't sleep. It's hard to get used to sleeping on my own after the time we spent together in our caravan. But it's not even that. A strange noise came from outside and kept me awake: it was a scorpion. I'll keep it with me. I know I'll sleep better now."
Day 13th. I can't sleep. It's hard to get used to sleeping on my own after the time we spent together in our caravan. But it's not even that. A strange noise came from outside and kept me awake: it was a scorpion. I'll keep it with me. I know I'll sleep better now."
"Dear Diary,
Nineteen days ago she called me her "home" and I said nothing. I just cried in silence and not because I didn't feel the same. Of course she was my home, too, but she was a home I didn't know how to live in. And now, I'm meant to be homeless for the rest of my life"
Nineteen days ago she called me her "home" and I said nothing. I just cried in silence and not because I didn't feel the same. Of course she was my home, too, but she was a home I didn't know how to live in. And now, I'm meant to be homeless for the rest of my life"
"Dear diary,
It's been a month. I still hear her cuídate buzzing in my head while she was trying to comfort me with a smile made up of tenderness and desperation. My incapability of saying nothing other than gracias still persecutes me. Truth is I keep finding myself speechless"
It's been a month. I still hear her cuídate buzzing in my head while she was trying to comfort me with a smile made up of tenderness and desperation. My incapability of saying nothing other than gracias still persecutes me. Truth is I keep finding myself speechless"
"Dear Diary,
It's been two months. I just got home from Morocco, and by home I don't mean my family. I mean our home. Our van. I came back to the place we decorated together, to our little things, and as much I found them in the same place we left them, something was missing."
It's been two months. I just got home from Morocco, and by home I don't mean my family. I mean our home. Our van. I came back to the place we decorated together, to our little things, and as much I found them in the same place we left them, something was missing."
"Dear diary,
It's day 103 of me not knowing what I'm doing anymore, so I just do what we used to do together. I still wake up early to watch the sunrise and I stay up late at night under the stars, with the only difference that the person who was once beside me is now above me."
It's day 103 of me not knowing what I'm doing anymore, so I just do what we used to do together. I still wake up early to watch the sunrise and I stay up late at night under the stars, with the only difference that the person who was once beside me is now above me."
