Unchecked diaries,
It stopped on my birthday.
No continuation yet.
And…
Nothing went well.
Not like the dream board.
Maybe it’s too far reach.
I remember that day, how I expected the world to feel different, as though the passing of another year would somehow shift the air around me, like flipping a page to a new chapter. But the page stayed blank, and the years folded into one another, as if time itself had grown tired of waiting for me to catch up.
Nothing went the way I imagined. The plans didn’t unfold the way I hoped. The reality of growing older, with all its expectations and disappointments, felt heavier than I thought it would be. Sometimes, I wonder if the dream board was a fantasy, a list of impossible wishes I somehow convinced myself were achievable. Maybe I reached too far, asked too much of myself, demanded too much from the world around me.
But for tonight and tomorrow, love is the very first step.
I was in Blok M, Jakarta – surrounded by the rush of the city, the noise, the movement, everything pushing me forward, reminding me of the vastness of this world and the dreams I’ve been chasing. Then, I was in that small corner in Surabaya, tucked away in a space that felt like it could swallow me whole, yet I felt the weight of possibility in every quiet moment. It was as if the whole world was out there, waiting for me to finally see it, to take my place.
But, really.
It’s an odd feeling to look back at the end of the year and see no tangible evidence of what you’ve worked for. The dreams that once felt so vibrant and alive seem faded now, like an unfinished painting, colors still in the palette, but no strokes made. I spent so much energy trying to bridge the gap between who I thought I should be and where I thought I should be, that I forgot to pause, to breathe, to simply be. I ran after goals, set deadlines, envisioned what could be – and then watched them slip through my fingers as time moved on.
This year, I didn’t see the fruits of my labor, and that’s the truth. But it’s also a truth that sets me free. It’s a truth that clears the way for something new to take shape.
And yet, I found a love deeper than I expected. A love for the process, for the struggle, for the moments of stillness that allowed me to grow in ways I never anticipated. And as I sit with the quiet of this year’s unfulfilled dreams, I find that there is a kind of peace in knowing that love doesn’t always have to be earned. It can simply be, quietly, steadily, within me. And that love – that love for myself, for the journey, for the quiet moments of surrender – is enough to keep me going, no matter how far away the dreams may seem.
