Dear Diary,
On one sunny day of June, I met someone who seems very unique to me. In between the summer heat of June, he smells like a cold stormy weather in December.
He is weird. The way he talks seems so cold and dull. He’s so straightforward with his words, yet somehow manages to capture me with the way he acts.
His mind is the most thing I never seem to understand. It’s like he’s living with no sense of feelings, just thinking and walking in a very straight line. Yet, at the same time, the way he acts shows me thousands and millions of words he never seem to speak.
He is weird, again. He is cold, yet the only thing I feel is warmth whenever I am near him. I feel safe and I feel comfortable whenever he’s around.
It is weird, by how we are completely the opposite, but also not at the same time.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Dear Diary, heart is really a cosmos of mystery. But, if a mystery means to tangles the strings of his, then I am willing to do it even if it takes hundreds of years.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Dear Diary, if he’s a stormy weather in the winter, then why does he feels like warm blanket in the middle of the cold?
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Dear Diary, in the middle sunny day of summer, I met December who’s warm as June.
