"I wasn't built for halfway feelings — I overflow."
Dear Diary,
Sometimes I wish I could turn it down —
the volume of my heart.
Because I feel everything.
Too hard.
Too deep.
Too much.
When someone's sad, I carry it.
When the sky looks lonely, I ache with it.
Even silence feels loud to me — like an unanswered question hanging in the air.
I cry over things people don't even notice.
Like a bird with a broken wing.
Or a song that sounds like the way my chest hurts when I miss someone I never even got to keep.
I fall in love with people's voices, with the way light catches in their eyes,
with the idea that somewhere in the world, someone is looking at the same moon as me and thinking of someone else.
I know what it's like to grieve things before they happen.
To replay conversations that never even occurred.
To hold a goodbye in your chest before anyone ever says it.
It's exhausting, sometimes — carrying this much emotion in a world that tells you to toughen up.
People say I'm dramatic.
That I need to chill.
That I should "stop overthinking" as if my thoughts don't have lives of their own.
But Diary… this is how I was made.
With a mind like a storm cloud.
And a heart like an open wound.
And maybe — just maybe — that's not a flaw.
Maybe it's a gift.
Because yes, I cry easily —
but I also love fiercely.
I notice the small things.
I care when no one else does.
I feel joy like sunlight exploding in my chest, and sorrow like oceans crashing behind my ribs.
And even though it hurts…
even though it makes life heavy sometimes…
I'd rather feel too much
than feel nothing at all.
Because this world needs soft people —
the ones who cry at poetry and still believe in handwritten letters.
The ones who see the broken parts and stay anyway.
The ones who love with everything.
Even when it aches.
Till tomorrow,
Wunor 🫀🌧️