DIARY ENTRIES OF KIARA
The letter
Hey Ethan,
If you are reading this, then I’m sure that I did it.
I am gone. Just like that.
I have so many things to say to you, but it’s ironic how I have no words. I know you have many unanswered questions as well but don’t worry, E, you’ll find out why I did it. And why I had to. Please do me a favor and read this journal.
I hid all of this from you and I deeply apologize for that. I wish I was brave enough to face you and talk to you about all of this. But I am not. I am coward and selfish. I am sorry. I hope you will be able to forgive me, Ethan.
These are the entries of my days and I’ll be fair with you, you won’t like it. Sometimes you will hate me and love me. Sometimes you won’t feel anything at all. I was tired of keeping this from you, so here it is.
You were my everything, and I was nothing . . . I am sorry for losing you.
Love,
Kiara
***
PART ONE
“I was a mess. You were my saving grace, so I had to let you go.”
one
20th May, Sunday
Hey Ethan,
You know the rush of feeling you have the day before your birthday? The excited rumble in your churning stomach? The dizzy, strange happiness in your brain? Before everyone surprises you?
Yeah, the one I feel every year before going to bed and crying on my pillow.
I used to hate my birthdays, wondering why I was even born. I mean, the world would be a better place without me, eh?
But then, you, the world’s best friend, my best friend, always made it special.
You bought me zoo tickets last year, and we had so much fun holding the snakes. You were so scared to hold a Tricolor Hognose, you almost cried letting her go. That was so precious! And yes, I still have your scared photos, and no, I am not giving it back.
Remember how both of us tried to talk to the snakes? To see whether we were Parseltongue or not and you even glared at the guard who was giving us skeptical looks. We had so much fun. I loved every single moment with you.
But now, sitting on the roof with the cool summer breeze kissing my face, I wonder if you will have any time to go out with me. Times have changed now. You need to shave your stubble every three days. I have to shave my legs every alternate day. You are in a relationship. I have boobs now, like when did they show up? I also kind of hate how Ariana has wrapped you around her stupid manicured finger.
I really wish you were playing Scrabble with me instead. But I get it, she is your first girlfriend and you’re really excited to date her. I know she makes you happy, I can see it in your face.
Bad thoughts keep coming to me and I hate it. I hate thinking. I wish we could hit a pause button on thinking sometimes and do nothing.
Still, I can’t wait for tomorrow!
Love,
Kiara
***
23rd May, Wednesday
Um, hey E,
Sorry I haven’t been writing since the night before my birthday. I didn’t know what to write. Mainly because my birthday was a disaster. I wasn’t ready to pick up the fountain pen my mom had gifted me when I was four. I didn’t want to write.
Sigh. It’s strange.
Everyone was busy with something, even Katherine. But she sent me the book I was dying to read since the last two months. Even you had to go on a last-minute date with Ariana. Yes, you asked me to ditch your date, but I was the one who smiled it off.
Isn’t smiling one of my talents? Works like a charm. I hate myself for lying to you without using words.
Mom was busy with her drawings, Dad was in the hospital, and Karan with his internship. I didn’t have dinner that day, even though it was my favorite panner sabzi.
I cried in the shower because I was weak. It hurt me to stay on the floor, hugging my knees and hiding my face. I don’t remember why I was crying. Hating myself or hating all of you? It was sad, painful and pitiful. To look at your reflection and all you see are tear-stained cheeks, a flushed nose and red eyes.
Then you came sneaking through the window. You gave me my gift. It was a scrapbook. You were secretly working on it for months and you had glued pictures of us since our birth. I can’t imagine you out of all people making a scrapbook for my birthday. The thought itself makes me laugh.
There were so many pictures of us! Playing together with soft toys, your moms showering us, playing with paint, four-year-old Ethan kissing my knee when I bruised it, our first fight for the last slice of pizza, first bicycle ride, our birthdays, eight-year-old me fighting with Nancy Jones over you
I still hate her. How dare she call you her boyfriend!
, getting braces, our Radha-Krishna pictures, your swim practice, my first trophy for winning that essay competition. I can still remember that you were standing on your chair in the first row and cheering me on, ‘That’s my best friend, Kiara! Go, Kia!’
Then we looked grown up in the next pictures, painting together in my mom’s studio, the school summer dance, Halloween, Christmas, driving your car; it had everything.
The last picture was of us standing together. We were on the beach and you were kissing my hair, your arm around my shoulder while I was laughing at something with my eyes closed. It was beautiful.
I was in tears and jumped on you, wrapping my arms and legs around you. I gave you the tightest hug. You fell on my bed and started laughing. When I stopped crying, you cuddled with me and we watched ‘The Princess Bride’ mouthing the dialogue.
Just like that, I wasn’t sad anymore. You don’t know how much I appreciate your existence, Ethan Kane.
Love,
Kiara
***
29th May, Tuesday
Ethan . . . I can’t anymore.
It hurts . . . it hurts so bad. I don’t know what to do. I am so exhausted. I will just sleep it off.
Tired,
Kiara
***
10th June, Sunday
Hey Ethan,
Sorry for not writing daily, I can’t keep up with a journal, but I am trying. I hope I will keep writing this.
Anyway, I called you last night and . . . you seemed happy. Very happy. Also, you ordered me to bring bundi ladoos as a souvenir for you from India. Don’t worry, I’ve already made a secret stash for both of us. I hope Eve’s not sick anymore and it was just gas.
Well, life here is slow compared to San Diego, not like you haven’t seen. My Nana and Nani are spoiling me with food, not that I’m complaining because I really missed them. Including the spicy Indian food. They asked about you and were sad that you couldn’t come with us this year.
Nana told me a story last night while my Nani was doing champi on my hair. He still calls me his little lion in Gujarati, and I can’t help but grin every time he calls me that.
Miss you,
Kiara
P.S. I am not sorry for stealing your cologne. It’s with me. Because I knew I would miss you.
***
12th June, Tuesday
Morning, E! Wondering how I woke up at six in the morning? Spoiler alert: It wasn’t magic.
I’m writing this sitting on our special rock. Remember that big rock near the little pond on the outskirts of my hometown where we used to sneak off and throw pebbles eating gola
shaved ice
. I am sitting right on that rock right now. I wished you could come with us and it seems like my overprotective cousins missed you.
The weather here is still fresh, and you can smell the cool fragrance in the air. Sadly, the pond dried out, and it has turned into a vast clearing. The tire swing we tied to the oak tree is being used by little kids.
Even though the life here is simple and lovely, I miss home. Especially you. Because it feels like for the longest time, my home is where you are, Ethan Kane.
Love,
Kiara