My diary. My best friend.

I see myself back in time, exactly, twenty years ago and see a weak, retiring, and lonely girl, without friends, without a great personality. Let’s call I was like a ghost. We could have a family party and nobody would see me or talk to me until the adult conversation fainted away, then the people around the table looking for something else to speak found me over there, still, quiet. "Oh, dear. You are so quiet, how are you? How are your days going to the school?" 

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Throughout the years those questions would turn into: “Have you found a good boyfriend yet?” But I would be the same weak girl, I hadn't changed a bit. I don’t remember exactly how, but through a trip school I took a very little notebook and started to write down my days in that trip with my fellows, I called them “friends”. After few years, we went on vacation at the beach and I had my first boyfriend, you know what kind of boyfriend I'm talking about, I was thirteen years ago, I probably didn’t know what I was doing but it was fun and different for me. I could look myself in the mirror and see that I was beautiful for someone, for a change. Mi existence made sense. The first thing I did when we got back home was to take another notebook and start writing my adventures at the beach more seriously. I began to feel better for I had “someone” to talk with and every night, before going to bed I had to write more or less but I had to tell to my diary how was my day, too many of my questions or my laughing about that day or my crying.  

But there was something I couldn’t deal with. I was still extremely self-conscious, sensitive, and retiring even with my only friend. What is that mean? I still hold to many memories in my mind that I couldn’t write them down in my diary, I was not totally honest with my only friend. I told it too many things, but there were other things that I was unable to write them down, I just couldn’t do it. I read my diaries a few months ago and I was really surprised, I almost didn’t remember how extremely retiring I was. There were days when I was reading it and I noticed that it wasn’t everything there on the page, but I did, I remembered perfectly. It touched my heart seriously. How many winters had passed since that little and self-conscious girl? I was scared of too many things around me. I remember that it went to worst every single day. I wrote just all I wanted on my diary best friend, but it didn’t tell me anything in return to calm me down so one day I thought of giving up. 

 
When I couldn’t fall furthermore; when around me it couldn’t be more pitch-black than it was; when I didn’t even trust myself and my parents were worried. It was as if I was empty and tear apart all myself. Shreds of my soul everywhere. I wasn't even sure that one day I could ever put myself together anymore; I couldn’t even cry because my heart was sealed. when I was finished with everything and everything seemed to have to finished with me I found the only person who could help me to climb up again from the very bottom of the pit. He gave me the breath of life, he swept my fears away, he held my hands and sown in my heart hope, faith and forgiveness. God gave the life I wanted to give up.

The next diary I took had another colour. I didn’t have friends yet and I told my feelings to the only friend able to listen to me, my diary. It was all ears for me like always as I was all ears for the rest of the people around me and however, I felt quite different inside me that time. I was happier, I felt my heart warmer. My problems were different with God, they didn’t eat me, they simply couldn’t. I felt stronger and confident. God was and is teaching me every day how to deal my with my problems, my battles with him, always with him and for him, I had won my battles.  

Did I have the necessity to express myself to anyone else? Yes, of course. I wanted to talk and be heard in return and I tried it a couple of times with “friends” who I hung out with, but it couldn’t be. It seemed there was something more in need than me always and I was used to shutting and listening and that was what I did. Shut up and listen to them and wait a bit longer. Not to be heard was no longer a problem because I could wait patiently. I had God who talked to me always and he gave me patience and peace enough to wait. 

It had to pass six diaries until I found someone. I realized that I wrote in my diary every day a bit less, another a bit less jumping over the weeks and months… until I finished my mission. I didn’t need my diary anymore, I found someone prepared to listen to me and talk to me in return. It was a difficult task. It wasn’t easy to see this person quiet listen to everything I had to say, and I had to say a lot of things because I was shut up for too many years. In more than once I shut I stared at him, I had to ask even when you can't believe, I wasn't sure that he was doing what he was doing: “Are you really listening to me?” The fact about he was listening surprised me and that kind of question surprised him.  

Since that day, thank God he lent me my best friend as my husband. Well, I had to marry him after all, shouldn’t I? What’s better than having your best friend as your husband? I couldn’t ask anything better to God.