onceleenalivedhere

August 6th, 2025 Late morning, somewhere between sleep and memory I saw him again. It started in that strange, knowing way dreams sometimes do—where I already knew something terrible had happened, or was about to. Baba was sick. Really sick. The kind of sick where you brace yourself for a phone call or a final breath. But he didn’t die. Not in this dream. He survived. And it felt like the whole house had been holding its breath with him. It was around 11 a.m. when I finally woke up in the dream—late, lazy, almost guilty. The house was quiet in that odd way that makes you feel like you’ve missed something. I walked into Baba’s room, expecting to find him resting or weak—but he was there, standing, dressed in the brightest white suit I’ve ever seen. Like it had been stitched from light itself. He was getting ready for work, which was strange. He always used to leave by 9 a.m. sharp, never later. Routine was sacred to him. But there he was—late and glowing—and somehow, I didn’t que...

August 4th, 2025 Right before waking I don’t know if I dreamed this before… or if my dream told me I did. But it felt familiar—like I’d already lived it once, or maybe several times. I was at the hospital, even though I was perfectly fine. Nothing hurt, nothing felt wrong—until it suddenly did. I started shivering out of nowhere. The doctors noticed, and just like that, I was being booked for a test. Not an ordinary test. Something... strange. Clinical, but cold. Almost like I was being sorted. There were colors—red, blue, green. I don’t remember which one I got, but I know it wasn’t blue. Blue feels peaceful. Safe. Maybe blue meant “you’re okay.” And I wasn’t okay. They asked me to cut my nails before the test. Last time, I think I did. This time, I didn’t want to. I told them I didn’t have a nail cutter, even though I did. I just didn’t want to comply. I don’t even know why. Maybe because something in me needed to rebel, to stay untouched in a place that felt too invasive. T...

 Last night, I saw Baba in my dream. He was sleeping in my bed. Mama was on the phone, and I was sitting on the floor. Suddenly, he woke up—startled, scared—like he’d just seen a nightmare. I rushed to him and hugged him tightly, and then I broke down. I started crying because, in my dream, I had a nightmare that he died. I was sobbing in his arms, not wanting to let go—and then I woke up. And it shattered something in me. Because that’s what my life has felt like these past 7 months. One long nightmare I keep waking into, again and again. I never got to hug him like that in real life. We were never very expressive, both of us holding love silently. I never told him how much I loved him. And now I never can. What hurts even more is watching myself go on with life. Eating. Existing. Sometimes even laughing. It feels wrong—like I’m betraying him. Like I’ve forgotten. But I haven’t. I just… don’t talk about him. I don’t look at his pictures. And whenever memories of that night come ru...

 Everything just keeps going wrong  I'm scared of the life I will have to live and it's ruining the life I'm living. As someone who used to be so emotional,  I sometimes am amused by how strong I'm becoming. From the girl who couldn't even talk because she always ended up crying to swallowing my tears because I had to speak, I've changed and tbh I hate this change. I miss being carefree, the leena who was wild, always excited , she died with you on that December night and no one realises. I guess that's what you call life and I'm truly not the biggest fan of it. I've been bottling my tears for so long that it feels weird when I cry. I was happy today was now I'm lost and reminded of that December night. Sometimes I do wonder if things were different then who would I be, the old leena but I don't remember her, I don't know her , I don't know who she was. I'm playing all these different leenas that I forgot who the real one was . Do...

i had stopped writing in my diary idk why it's like that, i don't feel like doing anything,i'm sick of pretending, sick of acting, sick of eveything 

 Dear Me, I know right now it feels like everything is caving in. Like no one sees you. Like the pain will never stop. But I’m here to tell you—it does get better. I know, because I’m living proof. You made it through nights you thought would break you. You kept breathing, even when your chest felt hollow. You kept hoping, even in silence. That’s not weakness. That’s your unseen strength. I still carry the memories. The grief. The ache. But it no longer controls me. I’ve learned how to feel without drowning. I’ve learned how to say no without guilt. And most of all—I’ve learned how to love myself. The real me. The girl who survived everything they said would ruin her. There will come a day when you wake up and it doesn’t feel so heavy. When your heart feels like yours again. When you cook just for yourself and no one makes you feel bad about it. When you smile without pretending. That day is coming. So hold on. Not because it’s easy, but because you’re worth the life on the other s...