"Not every chapter is thunder and ache.
Some are just sunshine and small smiles —
the kind that hold the whole world together."
Dear Diary,
We didn't do anything grand today.
No kisses under rain.
No letters passed like secrets.
No universe-shifting confessions.
Just a day.
But somehow, it felt like one the stars paused to watch.
He showed up in the morning
with two plastic cups of cold zobo and a bag of fruit.
"I didn't know what to bring," he said,
"so I brought everything I'd want if I were spending the day with you."
We spread a blanket out under the mango tree.
(You know the one — the tree that's too stubborn to bloom but still tries every year.)
And we sat.
A basket of overripe peaches between us.
Our fingers sticky with juice,
our laughter louder than the birds.
He let me read him a few pages from my favorite notebook —
the one full of half-written poems and thoughts I've never spoken aloud.
He didn't interrupt.
He just listened.
The way people do
when they're not waiting for their turn to talk.
Then he handed me his phone and said,
"Pick any playlist. I want today to sound like you."
So I played the soft stuff —
girl with guitar,
boy with broken voice,
songs that hum instead of shout.
And we lay back,
watching clouds do their slow dances.
He pointed at one and said it looked like a cat riding a bicycle.
It didn't.
But I nodded anyway.
Because today wasn't about right or wrong.
It was about safe.
About quiet joy that doesn't need to be chased —
just noticed.
Later, we walked back in silence.
And when we reached my gate, he smiled and said,
"If I could press pause on a single day and live inside it…
it would be this one."
Me too.
No fireworks.
No plot twist.
Just fruit.
Music.
And a boy who saw me
and stayed.
Till tomorrow,
Wunor 🍃💛🩰