Dear Diary

Tonight, I find myself worrying again afraid that I’ll grow old alone. Sometimes, it feels like everyone around me is finding love so easily, while I’m here, waiting for something I’m not even sure will come. When will I meet the one meant for me? When will I finally feel that warm, gentle kind of love I’ve only seen in dreams? I wonder if something’s wrong with me if I’ve done something to push love away, or if maybe, love just isn’t meant for me yet. Still, a small part of me keeps hoping. Maybe fate is just taking its time, slowly guiding me toward the right person. And until that day comes, I’ll keep waiting— not out of sadness, but out of faith that somewhere out there, someone is waiting for me too.