Years passed by, diaries were filled and inks were refilled

You lost your voice but we didn’t stop talking.
You write a few words and I write few that’s how we communicate and our best conversations are hung on the wall. I know you don’t like, you don’t like when I tear pages from diaries to make a frame, I remember you told me oh sorry wrote me that “it will make this diary, our conversation and our relationship look incomplete” and to which I replied, “our completeness will be witnessed by these walls and frames; my love, these walls complete us, as much as we are within them that much they are within us. I like to make them our part”.
I know after this iconic short lecture on walls you gave up or maybe you agreed or maybe you loved my choice of words or maybe you didn’t want to write those words which make our diary look so unloved. You are unpredictable and beautiful. I honestly don’t regret that I don’t get to listen to your voice because baby, the words you write are even more beautiful, oh those handwritten notes and scribbling’s- they make my day. I could feel those written words because for me it’s is more like an art that expresses and brings rejoice on the face of the person whose eyes fell in that diary.
Hey, sweetheart, you write and write and write endlessly let your words define infinity and our diaries define love since our love is eternal and ever-lasting.