Remember, back in October when I wrote about the diary I'd found? Well, my friends, in all of my moving and unpacking and inheriting of things from my mom's house I've found it: the ultimate looseleaf binder of passed notes, journal entries and slam books, complete with paint penned bubble lettered phrases on its exterior. I read through it last night, and all I can say is, "Wow. I was one melodramatic teenager." But then, who wasn't?
To whet your appetite, I'm just going to pull something at random. Here I go...reaching in and grabbing a random piece of gold...
Friday, July 22nd, 1983
I can't believe it myself. I'm still not over Chris* yet. We broke up in February and here it is July. I still cry over him. I still love him. More than ever. Why can't I get over him. Lainey told me last night that she would say something to him about me. Maybe if he knows... Well I really shouldn't get my hopes up. If he would just realize that nobody could ever love him as much as I do. Everytime I hear a sad song, I just get down his picture and stare at it. I always dream that maybe he does the same thing with one of my pictures. Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I dream too much. I also get these crazy ideas that I am just going to call him and tell him everything I feel about him. Or maybe, I'lll invite him over and let him read everything I've written about him. Oh God!! These thoughts I get!!
*"Chris" was this guy Chris Lipscomb. What in the hell was WRONG with me?
Oh yeah, I was 14. That's what was wrong.
There is SO much more stuff in this treasure chest I've unearthed. Prepare yourself...