Dear Diary #1

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Dear Diary,

As of now, my search has been going on for a little more than a year. A search or an investigation as they like to call it as well, has so far gotten me less than where I expected. Countless day and nights, surviving on multiple cups of coffee from Starbucks has thrown me completely off my sleeping schedule. For someone who used to set of to dreamland as early as 9 pm, still being awake past dawn  and further into the day really sets me on the brink of going bonkers. 

Now, I'd like to think I've found enough to set my first step of finding them, or at the very least, one of them. Never have I ever let the idea of them slip away from my mind. The vision of these two people, who I know barely nothing of, but yet had such a strong place in my heart and my head kept me going forward. Yes, I'm afraid. I'm so afraid, diary dearest. 

Rejection and being rejected is a lowly feeling. It rips you apart as a child can tear paper and as skin can rip from its bones. No matter how positive you try to stay, there's always this thought stuck at the back of your mind that terrifies you. What if they wouldn't want anything to do with me? What if they had meant to stay gone and unfound? Alas, if we do meet, what if I'm not up to their expectations? 

For me, I've always thought that if they can leave and give me away once, they can do it again. This second meeting is one so huge but it can go two ways; the happy ever after or the good and gone once more. There's this persisting doubt that sits and constantly rattles me that it might be the first and last. 

These never ending questions haunt me as I continue my search. A search for my birth parents. 

As the years go by, I've always imagined them in different ways, without proper faces to settle on. The only photo I have of them was of me in my father's arms. I had on a little sun hat and floral dress. Mum was hugging us, a huge smile plastered on her beautiful face. I like to think that they would look exactly as in the photo when and if I ever do meet them. 

Even so, the love I have for my parents will never change. Birth or not. Thinking of it in a positive light, they gave a couple who couldn't have children, the greatest gift of their lives. I'd like to think that they'd gave me away on circumstances that made sense. That had they kept me, it'd be a unsuitable environment for a young child. That giving me away gave me the good life they'd wanted to provide but couldn't.

When reality hit, there were always times where I realise that I can't point out 'oh, we've got the same nose/eyes/features.' There was always a sense of difference, like being a round peg in a square hole. Nobody looked or spoke the way I do. Looking at the mirror, I often wonder who it is I look like. One day, I'll look at their faces and a place in my heart would 'click'. A piece that completed the puzzle of my life; my past. Questions that were left unknown would finally be answered. I hope. 

I've got their names written here diary dearest; such beautiful names they are. Michael and Sierra Smith. Meaning I too, am a Smith. 

I'd like to think that one day the Smiths would be complete. 

xx

-The imaginary person in Sarah's head after watching too many episodes of Long Lost Family