September 3 - An act of kindness
It's my birthday today. Nineteenth. Tomorrow I begin my 20th year. It seems as though birthdays always hold such promise. Your own personal New Year's Day celebration. Mother gifted me this diary, and I plan on putting it to good use. Memory is such a cruel thing. Things you care to forget never wander far, yet things you crave to hold on to seem to fade and wilt. Maybe by committing to ink my thoughts, I'll be able to hold on to them until I can share them with you. - Ellie
My wife got me this journal. Something about keeping everything cooped up inside. Feelings blah blah blah. So this is me, wasting time, appeasing her. What a crock. As if writing shit down makes a hill of beans. It won't change anything. I'm still right here, and she's still out there. And she's probably still searching for me. Why? Because she's the dreamer, and I'm the asshole. - Alistair
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