These words race across the page faster than my eyes can comprehend. Words big and small, short and long, fill the page, ink dripping from the corners of each page.

Ink drips from my fingers, staining the burnt page. Words are filled line by line, paragraph by paragraph, flowing like the sea. Much like the sea, the meaning crashes like floods on a moonlit night.

Lost and forgotten, this diary I write rests upon a shelf among other books. Her eyes are caught by the crusted red pages and golden outlines. It must be an underrated author, she thinks.

She reads the journal, and halfway through, she instantly falls in love with the author. She feels every ounce of pain and emotion through each word.

She slows down, her mind allowing her to read while her heart accepts. She is soon overwhelmed with the emotions of love, despair, and sadness. She is almost done with his journal; she is almost at her wits’ end.

She continues, only to have her heart dismayed. She reads again, this time uttering with a hardened voice, “Journal of a shattered man.”

On the last page, she reads, “Goodbye, Earth,” and her eyes flood the page. Her tears wash the blood-stained edges, revealing the burnt page beneath.

Shuddering to think this is the end, she reads again, wiping her tear-stained eyes. Her heart sits unrested; the man she fell in love with through words is the same man who breathes no more.