I could tell you how happy I am, how I find mysefl enjoying what I do, how hopeful I am about the future, how much I have been loving Him for almost 4 years now, how much I like owls (yes, bird owls) and how it is warm when in fact I have to sit wrapped up in a blanket drinking hot tea or self-made hot chocolate (lately even coffee). How I don't mind being awake till 4 a.m. doing projects (although my body seens to mind) and how sucky are some of my works and I still like them. But at the same time when I think it all to myself, I'm so fucking scared as I have never been before in my life. I feel like I'm missing something, only 2 seconds behind my life, crucial seconds. Well, frankly I have the right to think that way, as it is in fact 2 years I am behind, but this is somehow a different feeling, very disturbing and nerve-consuming. Maybe that's how you grow up, you realise how much you have to lose. No pain, no gain.
And this is all what I could tell you, but I won't. You will never ever hear me saying those words. I don't tell things like this. You may find me cold and indifferent, you may not want to be friends with me, because I don't tell much. I'm quiet. That doesn't mean I don't feel much, it's quite the opposite. But I just rather save all these feelings inside, because no words can express what I mean. They never do. That's why I don't even write this in my mother language. Such an irony.