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Dear Diary,
I can’t believe it’s been five months since he left this world. Ever since that day, I have realized that in grieving, one never heals from the pain of losing a loved one. I have just learned to live one day at a time with a heartache that has become a part of me. After the loss of my first son, whom tragically passed away at eight years old due to typhoid fever, I’ve been feeling lonely, abandoned, forsaken, and deserted. My biggest fear, however, is forgetting about the precious memories we made together as I power on without him. I’m still growing to accept this truth because honestly, life has been really hard without him here. The pain and emptiness I often feel is un-measurable. I miss him more than anything. I miss who we all were when he was here. He was life altering. The most precious gift. My treasure. My life. For now, the only thing I know for sure, is that I loved him unconditionally. I’ll hold him close within my heart, and there he will remain, to walk and guide me everyday on my life’s journey, until we meet again.

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Dear Diary,
Is it just me, or has my relationship with my wife become stagnant after the passing of our first son? My feelings for my wife haven’t changed. I still love her. But our relationship is like a ship on the ocean, with no wind in its sails–motionless on the water with no direction. That is to say, I don’t think our relationship is progressing anymore. I find it hard not to yearn for the days we once shared together as a loving couple. However, it seem like the painful incident that we’ve been trying to sweep under the carpet has finally grown into a mountain. One that has become a huge blockage in our marriage. We’ve stopped talking, we’ve stopped connecting and I fear that if we don’t get to the bottom of this, our very roles as husband and wife will also come to an end. I need to know how she feels about us, and where she would like to see us in the near future. Nevertheless, I hope we can reconcile one day, not only to love and care for each other, but to carry one another whenever life pulls us down.

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Dear Diary,
Today, I had the pleasure of meeting the Das family, whom hired me to accompany them on a sightseeing trip to the Sun Temple in Konark, India. When the family first arrived at the tour sight, I was  quite intrigued by the foreignness of Mr. Das, Mrs. Das, and their three children. During the journey, I noticed that the family was somewhat dysfunctional. I was able to identify a childish antagonism between the couple, picturing them to be more like elder siblings to their children rather than parents. However, I seemed to have taken a drastic interest in Mrs. Das. I noticed how she disengaged herself from the family outing and looked almost uninterested throughout the whole tour. I also noted how Mrs. Das never chided or scolded her children, having the minimal interaction with them as the day went on. Because of this, I was left wondering if there was a reason why Mrs. Das acted so distant and willfully ignorant to her family.

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Dear Diary,
I think I might sort of, maybe, be falling in love with Mrs. Das. I get butterflies just thinking about the possibility of having a romantic relationship with her. I find myself staring at her, admiring her body, the strawberry patch on her shirt, and the way she parts her hair throughout the trip. As a young man, I dreamed of working as an interpreter for diplomats and dignitaries. Unfortunately, though, my career is far less than what I dreamed it might be. Instead, I find myself chaperoning tourists and working a second job as an interpreter of maladies in a doctor’s office to support my family, a job that I have never though of anything other than thankless and unimportant. After revealing this to the couple, Mrs. Das was instantly intrigued by it, saying that my job must be amazing and “romantic”. For this reason, I was flattered that Mrs. Das was so supportive of my job. Unlike my wife, who reminded me of its intellectual challenges. Now, I’m starting to wonder if Mr. and Mrs. Das were a bad match, as me and my wife were.

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Dear Diary,
I learned her secret. Being honest, I became slightly disillusioned with her after realizing that she isn’t who she appeared to be. When she confided in me, I felt nothing but disgust as I realized that she didn’t seek my love, but merely my professional help. The intimacy I thought I wanted revolted me when I learned more about Mrs. Das’s nature. She confessed all of her frustrations to me, beginning with the boredom she felt with her everyday life and ending with the story of Bobby’s conception. When I pointed out that she didn’t have an actual sickness but was rather experiencing guilt, she was equally disappointed with my diagnosis and decided to leave rather than face it. Our conversation had a negative impact on our meeting. When I saw my address flutter away with the wind, I took it as a link to my deflated fantasies. As a result, I realized that I’m not going anywhere in life and will always remain unhappy and unsatisfied. The false togetherness that Mrs. Das and I briefly shared was built upon misunderstanding and exoticism of our respective cultures.