Dear Journals,
Thank you.
Thank you for being there everytime. Thank you for listening to my rambling even when it’s 3 in the morning. You have the scraps of poetry I’m too afraid to speak out. You have my tears; tears of joy, anger, sorrow. You have the imperfect art I made to get out of my thoughts’ spirals. Thank you for keeping them safe.
Sorry for the times I tore your pages to remove memories of certain people.
One day, I won’t remember these pages and poems I wrote, pictures and flowers I stuck; that day, I will come back to you to make you remind me each of this time. The time I’ll cry happy tears because you kept the most precious of time safe.
I know that girl would go on, that she would grow up, have children and love them, that despite loving them she would get too sick to care for them, be hospitalized, get better, and then get sick again. I know a shrink would say, write it down, how you got here.
-Turtles All The Way Down, John Green
Until then,
I love you,
A.