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ONE HEART. ONE SOUL.
ONE HEART DIARY:
SEEING
THE WORLD
THROUGH
THE EYES OF
ONE
HEART
she
1/1
.
My Dear Stranger,
I don’t know how you got here. Maybe you stumbled in by accident. Maybe something in your heart led you here —
a quiet ache, a familiar sadness, a longing you can’t quite name.
Whatever it was, I’m glad you’re here. This space wasn’t made to impress or to perform.
I didn’t create it to teach or to preach. I made it because I needed a place to breathe.
A space to lay down the thoughts I couldn’t say out loud. The prayers I didn’t finish. The wounds I thought I had to hide.
And maybe — just maybe — I’m not the only one who’s been carrying pieces.
The kind you tuck under your smile. The kind you pretend doesn’t hurt anymore.
If any word here makes you feel seen, understood, or simply less alone, then this journal has already done more than I ever hoped.
I don’t have perfect answers. I only have real stories. Some are painful and messy. Some are unfinished.
But they are mine. And now, they’re here — no longer hidden.
Thank you for reading. For sitting with my words. I hope they meet you where you are. And I hope you stay for a while.
Listen in silence,
One Heart. One Soul.
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My Dear Stranger, I used to carry a feeling I couldn’t name. People called it anxiety. Others said I was broken. A mess. But to me, it felt like a quiet malfunction, my heart, my body, my mind moving on different frequencies, never quite meeting in the middle. A living paradox, I said. I try. I really do. I make plans. I say yes. I show up with a smile rehearsed in the mirror. Yet somewhere between agreeing and the moment itself, I secretly hope they’ll cancel. And when they
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I prepared so many New Year greetings for you. I wrote them carefully, line by line, choosing words that sounded light, safe enough to hide how deep they came from. Some were gentle. Some were playful. Some carried love quietly, hoping you would read between the lines. But none of them were sent. And when midnight came, I smiled at my screen like everything was fine. I laughed. I acted calm and ignorant. I pretended I was not waiting for your name to appear. In truth, I was a
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I don’t really know how to start this, So I’ll just be honest. There is a part of me that really wants to be close to you. To be seen. To be loved. To be understood without having to explain too much. But there is also a bigger part of me that is terrified. I have a soft heart. Too soft, I think. And because of that, I built cold walls around it, not to keep love away, But to keep myself from breaking again. Sometimes I wish you would come looking for me. That you would notic
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When the Music Fades Inside Me
My Dear Stranger, I don’t know how to start this without sounding like I’m unraveling— But maybe that’s exactly what this is. Last night, I stood among people. Laughter floated around me like confetti. Music pulsed, loud enough to shake the air. Everyone seemed present. Alive. In sync. And yet— I wasn’t there. I was standing in the crowd, but I felt misplaced. Like a word written in the wrong sentence. I smiled when I was supposed to smile. Nodded when I was supposed to nod.
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Journey of Sight
My Dear Stranger, I used to think my life was ordinary. Just days passing, one after another. But slowly, I began to notice something. I see things, not as they are, but as they are going to be. At first, it was small. A feeling before something happened. A knowing without proof. A heaviness before a moment arrived. I ignored it.' But it didn’t stop. It grew. What started as whispers became patterns. What felt like coincidence became clarity. And I began to realize— this wasn
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The Child Who Held Her Voice
My Dear Stranger, I was born different. I felt it even before I understood it. I was born into silence. Not because I had nothing to say, But because words could not reach me. Or maybe there were too many words inside my head, and I didn’t know how to let them out. They lived inside my head, crowded, restless, chaotic. My mouth felt locked. My thoughts were there, but they stayed trapped inside me. As if there was a door between my thoughts and the world, and I never learned
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The Weight of This Heart
My Dear Stranger, I was not born strong. I was born soft. With a heart that feels before it thinks, that loves without asking. that hears what is never spoken, that notices pain hiding in the smallest corners. At first, it felt like a gift. Then it started to feel like a sentence. A burden. A curse. My Dear Stranger, Love scares me. Not because it is bad, but because it weakens me. It makes me weak. When I love, I give too much. I feel too much. I worry too much, I care too
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How to Love Unconditionally.
I don’t know how to explain this without sounding lost, because I am. I don’t know why I think of you, love you. I don’t know when I fell. I don’t even know how my heart quietly chose you without asking my permission. All I know is this: Something in me opened when you arrived. And that has never happened before. I can talk to you. Really talk. Not just words, but the thoughts I usually hide, the feelings I don’t know how to name, the quiet corners of my heart that have al
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A Walking Paradox
My Dear Stranger, I am a walking paradox. I carry depth, yet struggle to name what I want. I feel everything, yet often can’t imagine anything clearly. I long for direction, but freeze when asked to describe the destination. There is also this quiet truth I rarely say out loud: Something that also confused me; I have no desire to build things in this life the way others do. Not houses, not legacies carved in stone, not the kind of permanence this world celebrates. I always fe
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A Quiet Belief - I believe in fairy tales.
My Dear Stranger, I believe in fairy tales. Even when some people call it foolish, even when others whisper that it’s a sin to believe in something so unreligious. I believe in fairy tales. Not the kind with castles made of gold or endings that arrive without scars— but the kind where light survives the dark, where love keeps choosing again, where mercy rewrites what pain tried to erase. I believe in my fairy tale. One written not by fantasy, but by grace. One written by Je
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When I’m Trying to Lead Without Breaking
My Dear Stranger, Today, I learned something the hard way: being a boss is not about standing taller, it is about standing longer, without slowly disappearing inside the role. No one tells you how power can be heavy. How decisions pile up like quiet stones in your chest. How leadership asks you to choose logic over instinct , numbers over nuance, certainty over wonder. I try. God knows I try. But my mind does not move in straight lines. I t wanders. It listens. It sees patt
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Gotta Find Where I Belong
My Dear Stranger, I’ve carried a feeling I could never quite name. Even as a child, before I had the words for it, I knew something wasn’t quite right. Not wrong in a dramatic way—just off, like a song played in the wrong key. A quiet heaviness in my chest, a whisper in the back of my mind, " this isn’t it… this isn’t where you belong. I grew up moving through places and moments as if I were always slightly out of frame. No matter how hard I tried to fit in, something in me s
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A Secret Letter I’ll Never Send
I’ve kept this feeling quiet, folded neatly where no one can see. Not because it isn’t real— But because it is too real to risk breaking in the open. There are days when all I want is you; to hug you, to feel your presence close, to rest my heart where it feels safe. Nothing dramatic. Just you. Just a moment with you. But fear stands between us, silent and heavy. I am afraid that rejection is the only answer waiting for me. Afraid that if I reach for you, I will lose even the
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Easy on me
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The Night when the Rain Stayed
My Dear Rain, I still remember the first moment I knew you could feel me. It arrived quietly— after I had already been broken, after disappointment had carved its name into my chest, after anger burned itself out and left only ash. Left behind. Again. Unseen. Again. I asked myself the cruelest question: Am I that easy to forget? I gave them everything— my patience, my softness, my prayers disguised as effort. I poured my whole heart into hands that never stopped to look at it
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— for the moon, who always listens 🌙 Hey you, Why do you look so blurred tonight? not glowing the way you used to, as if some part of you is tired — Or maybe, you’re just hiding your light from the world. It’s almost our time again, You know that hour when silence begins to hum, and the stars lean in to listen. I’ve been waiting for you to rise, for your face to find mine through the clouds. Funny, isn’t it? How your mood always shapes mine. When you’re shy, I become quiet
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A Soft Heart Behind Cold Walls
My Dear Stranger, There is something I have never known how to explain to other people. Something about me, Something that weighted me, confused me. I carry a heart that feels too much, soft, sensitive, easily moved. But I hide it behind walls so cold and strong, that even I forget what it feels like to be touched. My Dear Stranger, I don’t let my feelings out. I don’t let anyone in. Not because I don’t want to, but because I’m scared of what might happen if I do. Sometimes I
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