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"Dear diary,
I& #39;m in Morocco, it& #39;s been five days.
I can still smell her perfume on my t-shirt. I don& #39;t think I& #39;ll ever be able to wash it. I can still hear her last few words. "You& #39;re not alone anymore", she said. It& #39;s true, but I& #39;m afraid a part of me will feel alone forever."
I& #39;m in Morocco, it& #39;s been five days.
I can still smell her perfume on my t-shirt. I don& #39;t think I& #39;ll ever be able to wash it. I can still hear her last few words. "You& #39;re not alone anymore", she said. It& #39;s true, but I& #39;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& #39;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& #39;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& #39;t sleep. It& #39;s hard to get used to sleeping on my own after the time we spent together in our caravan. But it& #39;s not even that. A strange noise came from outside and kept me awake: it was a scorpion. I& #39;ll keep it with me. I know I& #39;ll sleep better now."
Day 13th. I can& #39;t sleep. It& #39;s hard to get used to sleeping on my own after the time we spent together in our caravan. But it& #39;s not even that. A strange noise came from outside and kept me awake: it was a scorpion. I& #39;ll keep it with me. I know I& #39;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& #39;t feel the same. Of course she was my home, too, but she was a home I didn& #39;t know how to live in. And now, I& #39;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& #39;t feel the same. Of course she was my home, too, but she was a home I didn& #39;t know how to live in. And now, I& #39;m meant to be homeless for the rest of my life"
"Dear diary,
It& #39;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& #39;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"
