"Some friendships are made in loud places.
Others are stitched together
with paper, patience, and the gentle hum of trust."
Dear Diary,
Our group project is due next week.
We're building a model of an eco-friendly house.
Jia's eyes lit up at the challenge.
Lina smiled softly and said she already had a sketch.
Me?
I just wanted to disappear into the cardboard.
But I said yes.
Because saying yes to them
feels like saying yes to the part of me
that wants to belong.
We met at Jia's place —
her living room smelled like cinnamon and floor polish.
There were scissors, glue sticks, scraps of paper,
and chaos.
Jia took the lead, talking a mile a minute.
Lina added gentle corrections,
redrawing lines with her signature neatness.
And I…
I cut and folded and listened.
Until they asked me to write the presentation script.
"You're the poet," Lina said.
"Your words always feel like warm tea."
I didn't know what to say.
So I just nodded.
Later, while Jia and Lina argued over roof colors,
I slipped into the corner,
scribbling words on a torn page:
"This is a house made of sunlight and second chances.
A roof that catches rain and laughter.
Walls that remember voices.
And windows that always let the light in."
I wasn't sure if it was right.
But when I read it aloud,
they both stopped and looked at me
like I'd just built the whole house with my voice.
Jia grinned and whispered,
"You're magic, you know."
I blushed so hard I thought my cheeks would combust.
We didn't finish everything that day.
We spilled glue.
Lina got glitter in her braid.
Jia danced with a cardboard door.
But somehow, we built something anyway.
Maybe not just a model house.
Maybe something quieter.
Softer.
More permanent.
A kind of home
in each other.
Till tomorrow,
Wunor 🏠✂️💛